Do we live on the same dust speck?
An elephant can fit, as can a kangaroo; Dr. Seuss can fill a flower with rhymes
whirling asking, “Who? Who heard the voice call out from our speck?”
Two worlds emerge, hearts tied with bones and souls stacked in a row
too large to ever give way; yet it is a speck on which we live –
countless infinities on a collective inkling of life
too small to appreciate from the catastrophic American dream.
We open eyes that are not adjusted to the very light worth waiting for.
January 20, 2014