Tiny Life

I long to be content with life

as tiny as it seems

amid the vast array of galaxies

and the cacophony of dreams

of otherwise and other ways—

the hue and cry of how

this moment could be so much more

than a speck of here and now.

More? How could it be?—

the lovers’ quickened breath, the moment in their eyes

as distant starlight finds them—

And the distant star? It dies.

Life is but a tiny thing.

The universe is vast.

The moment—it is everything,

but the moment doesn’t last.