Big Bang Poem by Roy Ballard

Some power, dominion or some prince of light
fired up a furnace, fierce beyond all measure,
with melts unknown and cast into the night
upon the void, a valiant new treasure.
It burst out with fantastic gluons, quarks
and spinning leptons in a swelling choir
of undiscovered things that flew in sparks
upon a rising thunderhead of fire.
Time stretched its legs and space uncurled
its knots and tangles; unsnarled twisted skeins;
set free its strings to weave another world,
to mass its stars in gravitating chains.
Most strange of all: upon a minor shelf
a piece of this is conscious of itself.