3. Einstein's Fabric

Space is a fabric, bent and wide,

mass and motion shape its tide.

Time slows where gravity is deep,
clocks will hum a different beat.

Objects fall, not pulled by force,
but follow spacetime’s bending course.

Light itself arcs, it cannot flee,
around the hills of gravity.

Black holes press with endless might,
folding day into endless night.

No magic guides, no hand unseen,
just curves of time, precise, serene.

And through the stars, our minds will climb,
mapping the rhythm and warp of time.

Poet: Vynolyn Naidoo

© 2025 Vynolyn Naidoo. All rights reserved. Published online, created with care and passion.



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