Poem: Echoes of Curiosity: A Poem on Life and the Universe

Echoes of Curiosity: A Poem on Life and the Universe

Am I a body—
or just borrowed atoms,
a lattice of carbon trembling in the void?
When I lie awake,
walls fade into crystal grids;
I glimpse myself—a speck of charge
spiraling around questions I cannot name.

Does another Wirda breathe
in some distant universe,
writing this same line,
wondering if she’s real
or only my reflection?

Are we equations,
clocks wound by unseen hands,
ticking inside a vast experiment
while some greater mind observes—
curious, merciless,
the way I watch my screen?

Every breath feels like a quiet miracle,
electrons sliding through invisible storms.
I whisper to the dark: is this living?
Or am I just a self-aware machine
to something like gods,
the way robots are to us?

The cosmos stretches,
but is it alone?
Or is there an endless hall of mirrors—
worlds upon worlds,
each with its own laws of light,
each with another me,
laughing, weeping,
dying, alive?

I do not know where I end
or where the universe begins.
Perhaps I am not in the cosmos—
perhaps I am the cosmos,
dreaming itself awake.

And maybe,
just maybe,
you reading this now
are the only proof
I have ever existed.

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By:

Wirda Siddique

“And still I wonder — when the universe looks back, does it see me?”