Zeptoverse Cosmos and the Head of a Pin

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

In seas of oceans of the galaxies

Are particles of smallest nth degree.

One hundred billion times more small peas

Called atoms in the cosmic soup,

These zeptoverse iotas are so small

That we cannot imagine them.  Conceive

And then express them we can do.  Their sprawl

Obscure and almost nought, yet still they weave

Themselves inside and everywhere.  The farthest star

Must hold them in its core.  The last of space

Beyond must hold them till the final scar

Of matter disappears far past God’s grace.

  Archangels turned to hermits cannot note

     One in their eyes, this floating nil-lish mote.

The zeptoverse: what is it and how will it transform physics? – BBC News