The earth itself seems to stand still
Or at least fade to nonexistence.
The 7 pounds of matter under these lights
Are all that matter.
This black hole, in this 1,000 square foot room
In the 200 square miles of our county,
In the vastness of space-time,
Is our event horizon.
Similar-sized spaces are filled by magazines,
Dinner place settings, or laptop computers.
We draw close, though, around this fragile universe,
Intent on its survival.
Outside the windows of our hospital
Mountains rise 5,000 feet above lakes
That stretch for miles, cascading one into another.
But that is another world to us.
For just beneath our gloved hands and stethoscopes,
Swaddled in tubes and sensors, clinging to life,
Is a future as yet unwritten,
The next leg of an epic journey.
There is enormous gravity in some of the smallest things.
Who can say what potential lies within
This unfathomable singularity,
At once so helpless
Yet so powerful.
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