In the grand scheme of things,
one person doesn't really stand for much.
Perhaps in their own time,
in their own town,
in their own generation,
but on the map of human history?
Just another blip among billions of other twinkling lights.
Have you ever stood outside in the winter
on a crisp, clear night,
when it's so cold your breath forms in clouds before your eyes?
Have you looked upwards and seen
the stars?
Really seen them?
Think of how many years its taken that faint light to reach your eyes.
Before the earth was born,
that light was leaving its star.
Look at them all.
Those stars are all dead.
What you are seeing is the faint, dying whisper
of a once magnificent, powerful beast
which now floats
cold and lifeless
in the dark matter.
Stars.
The stars make me feel suddenly very
very
small.
What am I in comparison
to a star?
I'm no Cassiopeia.
I won't die in an explosive supernova.
I'll merely whisper my last words
from feeble lips
and soar past the light that's been on me my entire life
the light of the humbling stars.