That Grain of Sand Perspective

Sitting by wildflowers

Under heaven, staring

At a glowing image

Circling gravity-lensed

Galaxies, the deepest

View yet, the glass screen says,

Though it won’t be for long,

The galaxies themselves

Look no more than sparkly

To the untrained eye, bent

As by a fisheye lens,

Which, in a way, they are.

It’s the explanation

Of the perspective that’s

More truly head-spinning

At first, casual glance—

Someone not betraying

Affinity for Blake

Explains that the picture

Spans as much of the sky

As would be occluded

By a grain of sand held

At arm’s length while standing.

All those galaxies crowd

In their scintillations

From a young universe,

However many stars,

Exploding from one glimpse

Of a sky-patch the size

Of a grain of sand. Souls

Who dwell in realms of day,

Seeing God in human

Form, what does this display?