And Carl Sagan
Would have said:

See,
This here

Is us.

We are but
Flecks of dust
In this vast region
Of space and time

Or so all the astronomers
Gravely would
Have us say.

And who are we
To argue?

When God created the universe
We were an afterthought:
It is possible.

Breathed life into us
And left us
To float
And spin
And twist like tiny
Wind up toys

And see for ourselves
One day the
Irony of it all. See

Maybe past it,
Around it,
Bend over sideways
And squint
And leer
Over ourselves
And towards

The slit-narrow
Windows of
Our homes,
And look
Forward.

And trace the
Hums of colors
Hanging forth
On the edge
Of our galaxies.

And come forth
And marvel at

The magnitude of
Our inheritance.