And so it goes.
Our lives move on
much the same as the seasons.
They come and go – and we do too.
Small and insignificant
against a grand creation.
I don’t see my place
in a plan so complex.
Life blows through
and I try to ride the wind
of a future I can’t see.
I wonder if I matter
to a universe so immense
that I can’t even fathom its depth.