The tipping point

sit on the edge of creation
not long after pimordial soup,
stirred by the hands of God (perhaps)
weilding a big stick that might be
a long-handled spoon
and speaking softly, comes
to the boil and is torn asunder;
each atom split from the infinite
by forces known as physics,
chemistry, quantam mechanics
and something called string theory
tied up in a bow of speculation,
hypotheses upon hypotheses,
uncertainty and guess work
heaped upon maybe this and
possibly that but all now subject
to the laws men make and remake
every time the need arises
to explain the silent screaming.
.