by Mark Meyer

Created on: March 03, 2007   Last Updated: May 14, 2007

-That Little Feeling-

Insignificance upon a precipice
far above yet amid thriving life
nothing more or less than a fleck
among swathes and strokes of entirety

Looking to radiance and shadow in dance
as wind-drifted islands of mist pass above
to assure me I still exist and am alive
in world changing in moments and eons alike

Mountains heaped in time to one day crumble
spreading shattered remnants into watered valleys
to change the course of an ancient stream
and carry small fishes into a virgin world

The wind that touches all I can know
steadily rocks the limbs of great spruces
lulling hatchlings from their chirping
to hear the rattle of plummeting cones

The clatter of antlers and hooves on stone
attest to the annual battle of procreation
where a temporary dominance is violently decided
to assure the ranks will swell with strength

Visited by a whistle pig who calls me, "intruder"
I am somewhat embarrassed to be noticed at all
below us are his brethren carving their warrens
and he thinks of them as he taunts this enormous beast

I retreat and surrender to the return of serenity
wary only of things that might think me a meal
I apologize to the whistle pigs and thank the universe
knowing I am insignificant yet a part of it all

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