~24mm
This sphere is a pocket, a thimble of drift,
a glass-blown horizon, a crystalline gift.
So small that your thumb could blot out the whole scene,
yet within, every shade of blue has been seen.
A microscope mountain, a tiny blue shore,
with clouds that are swirling and asking for more.
The depth is a cheat code, it stretches and bends,
past logic and gravity, ‘round where it ends.
It’s Pareidolia’s postage stamp, stuck in the day,
look now, it’s a llama that’s trying to pray!
No, wait, it’s a donut that’s wearing a crown,
as white, milky rivers are flowing right down.
Oh, Morpho! You pin-drop of cosmic delight,
you steal all the colors right out of the light.
A small, blue enigma, a jewel on the shelf,
reflecting the madness we keep to ourself.