A schoolboy poem

At school I loved our surroundings, and the first verse of this contribution to the school magazine is a conventional celebration of natural beauty at night. I was also at the time trying to understand Einstein - who writes very clearly. This little poem is the result.

Subjectivity

Mists in the valley are silently drifting,
Lit by the golden-ringed moon above.
Clouds move on slowly, masking, unveiling
Stars which shine down on the land that we love.

Is this reality?

Where is reality?

Is it in the structure of the atom,
Or in electrons
Whirling at incalculable velocities;
Is it in the galaxies
Obeying the laws of general relativity
Through empty nothingness
In a four-dimensional continuum?

Where is reality?

Mists in the valley are silently drifting,
Lit by the golden-ringed moon above.
Clouds move on slowly, masking, unveiling
Stars which shine down on the world that we love.

This is reality.