Why were we not made with feather'd wing
to glide, to ride, to fly the skies?
Instead, to earth we're born to cling,
to yearn the thermals with our eyes.

And some may ask, or intercept,
why were we not as fish created,
to swim and explore the ocean depths,
instead to walk on ground we're fated?

Indeed, methinks, betwixt the two,
man was made [that's me and you],
to join the worlds in harmony,
the skies, the ground, the sand, the sea.

As microcosm of macrocosm,
he stands in middle of the world,
between greatest distance we can fathom,
and smallest type of life unfurl'd.

As fulcrum of all activity,
we're responsible - that's you and me -
for everything in universe,
for good, for better, or, for worse.