The physicists say that most of the universe is empty space.
Little strings, vibrating things, are what compose this place.

I am inclined to agree.

Even when we touch we are separated from each other.
Can we, in the end, really know that all this matters?

Are not these matters only space?

Am I merely an accident of beautiful harmony?
Is my consciousness a universe of nothing, set to sing?

Then what is left to explain?