The Children Of Spacetime Poem by Drew Engman

(An Invocation of Elemental Wonder)
We are born of breathless fusion,
In the furnace of first light—
Where hydrogen dreams of helium,
And gravity learns to write.
We are carbon's quiet longing,
Iron's patient, molten prayer—
Gold from neutron-star collisions,
Strewn like stardust in the air.
We are echoes of expansion,
Curved by time's relentless flow—
Dancing on the edge of matter,
Where quantum shadows grow.
We are kin to cosmic silence,
To the pulse beneath the skin—
To the orbit of each longing,
And the fire that burns within.
We are memory in motion,
Spiraled in a DNA of stars—
Bound by laws and sacred chaos,
Cradled in magnetic scars.
We are children of spacetime,
Not by birth but by becoming—
Each thought a wave, each breath a particle,
Each heart a universe humming.
So let us walk this spiral temple,
With reverence for the void and flame—
For every atom sings its lineage,
And every soul recalls its name.