The magnitude of mountains make the trees
seem like mere foliage lightly scattered
with striped planes flying by the size of bees
and people are ants; scurrying, battered.
A staircase of boulders leading to bed
at the very bottom of the vast sea
where the fish will lightly lay their head
when the time come that they must cease to be.
Meanwhile, the land we roam seems so little
when framed with this magnificent landscape
and we are just cells, bounding and brittle
which barely define how the world takes shape.
Insignificance is such a real view
so does it matter what we decide to do?
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