My chest explodes with
joy and pride, that is,
if pride is the right word
for a sense of wonder
that seems to dominate
both my most quiet, dark moments
and shatteringly sunny seconds.

Staring at the blazing blue
of the morning sky, and the
counterpoint of cottony white,
I wonder why so much gas
and light somehow came
to inspire rather grand words in
an inconsiderable and small
speck of carbon such as I.

How can I explain the way
I see the space around me, that is,
Without pretense of creation
and acceptance of insignificance,
in a way that wouldn't offend
and could inspire even the most
singular minded mortal?

I am of only humble understanding
of much but was taught some words:
that any lost feeling of awe
cannot be nourishing to a
mature peace of mind, nor body,
nor soul, if you call the way
all things connect as such.

And if I had a thing
like a soul, mind,
at this moment,
it would be
soaring.