Concerning matter, we have been all wrong. What we have called matter is energy, whose vibration has been so lowered as to be perceptible to the senses. There is no matter.” ― Albert Einstein That got me to write this poem.... This is the mystery of energy enough to ignite colored shards of glass a fire fountain of blues and reds spill into a fused stillness. The same mystery waits in the candle wick, the match the dry kindling.