Be Little We Poem by aMan Bloom

within this delicate filigree am I infinitesimal


within me is the knowing of eternity

I name time

I see space

make love, do good



if the earth were an apple, its solid mantle would be thin skin

afloat upon a juicy orb of molten flint

its biosphere faint as slime on slippery rock in a slow-moving stream

the field in which we loosely play

perhaps alone, the only ones who pose and probe and posit

arrogantly*claiming*position



wee voices in hollow vastness

within this delicate filigree

are we