That we are made of pieces,Pieces so small as to be Colorless, odorless, Themselves made of even smaller pieces - Being nothing much more than empty space.
That these pieces of nothing were Violently spewed from stars After having collapsed under their own weight.
That, fantastically, they self-assembled And through the turmoil of eons Joined and collaborated in such a way As to eventually ponder themselves - to look up To other stars, other future pieces.
This is what keeps me up at night.
In a good way.