Really
How little it all matters
The petty pains and frustrations of the day
Your little micro world measured against the macro
The machine suffering of millions
Against your angst or love’s distress
How little you matter
We get ground like corn
Dust between the stones of circumstance
Each a little micro
How would we ever know or understand the macro
The general hidden in the particular
Riffing outwards into others’ pain
How could we ever love
Each drop that falls
A thousand lives
Or none
Nothing ever satisfies
Like the princess and her pea
Always something
Let go the micro, the particular, yourself
Freedom lies in losing other and self
Melting the ice of me