I think I understand the Big Bang when I watch four o’clocks fill the chipped earthen pot (How can the Crab Nebula and Venus and Dark Matter all have come from a tiny speck?) When borage shoots its petite stars off hairy stems. Yet from a compact seed the size of a peppercorn trumpets and constellations bloom on beautiful stalks thickened through all hail and thunder, metabolizing sunlight and whatever is in Miracle Gro and dirt. It is at once inconceivable that so much flutter was inside that small shell. Or was it? Don’t our own roots reach and branch through exposure to explosions and storms, don’t we bud and bloom by digesting the dirt that collects under our fingernails and by flying through space untethered? Doesn’t it take all this rubbing up against life and space to get from speck to galaxy?