and how could I not worship
when I turn my face
towards the sky
there are stars there
designed to overfill my head
with an idea of what small is
and my place
within the scheme
and I know I am nothing
but who else is there
to gaze
wide open to the colours within black
and to the pinpoint indicators
of a place where mightiness once shone
and see the scheme
and I know I am everything
all of it is for me
and it is nothing
© Frank Prem, 2011
