There's something holy wrapped
in nothing: The least bit of litter
that blows by your shoes
tells a story as deep as humanity.
The physicist who crossed the street,
the one who ate the candy bar
and dropped the wrapper,
had stopped with the thought
that all we are is lifeless quarks and
space. We're nearly nothing
and still we're somehow holy.
She stood there lost and grinning,
wholly rapt.