Planck

When does reading become something more than
A leisure, an entertainment, a pastime
And become an ignition?


When does an author move from writing on
Stone, papyrus, pulp, and silica
To writing on hearts?

When does art move from intriguing, captivating, and beautifying
To saving a life?  Tens of lives...hundreds, thousands, more?

When do particles make molecules
 make proteins
  make cells
   make organs
    make systems
     make code
      make life?
                             ...
                                       In the blink of an eye.

In the amount of time it takes for light to travel the length of its own smallest increment.

                                And if you didn't think to ask
                                      Whose eye is blinking,
                   There may yet be wonders in this world for you.

Posted by Hans Andersen | at 8:47 AM | 0 comments