|
and inconsequential
I look at my hands.
What they have done through the years
is not there,
it is woven into the warp of history.
Generations hold those things now,
hold me.
I am among them.
I am all of them.
I take a breath:
the sky breathes into me
and out of me, I am sky.
My breath leaves me,
as if I am dead and buried,
I am earth.
I am not small,
I am the whole world,
in my part of it.
The heart of Creation beats in me,
the DNA of the universe
furled in the cell of me,
the whole Body present
in the hand I am,
I, the song that contains the world.
Myself is tiny, But I,
I am vast, if I listen, the whole Mystery
in the Word of me.
| 
