To see the World in a grain of Sand

'To see the world in a grain of sand, and to see heaven in a wild flower, hold infinity in the palm of your hands, and eternity in an hour.'

-William Blake, Auguries of Innocence

It struck her, as she sat sluggishly on her chair, that the elliptical motions of planets around the sun mirror the rotations of electrons about a nucleus.

Her mind was divorced from her body and floating about in random realms. She casually picked at the strand of black string straggling out at her cuffs. In other words, Sabrina was bored, stoning and daydreaming. Her distraction, we must understand, was pardonable. In all fairness, it was difficult to drum up enthusiasm about quantum mechanics when the discussion was circling about the same tired issue like a headless housefly.

Then, the truth struck her.

Electrons circle around the nucleus.

Planets circle around the sun.

Moons and rocks, in turn, circle around planets.

There must be a touch of divinity in this underlying order. It was just too neat, too proper. And wasn't the world supposed to tend towards disorder or something?

The knowledge - separated into strands - was common enough. It was just that no one really put them together and considered them in tandem. She paused and thought, wait, isn't there this Newton guy - no, no, Einstein - yes, Einstein was trying to come up with a Grand Unifying Theory before his death, was he not? He must have observed this too.

It felt awesome to feel the intentions of a divine architect. Perhaps, he had intended the world to be neat and tranquil, an Arcadia, but his Promethean efforts went astray? Evidence of his presence - supposed by modern community as scientific laws - exist.

Like Blake, she had seen the world in a grain of sand. Or more accurately, the world in an infinitesimal atom.