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