Men In Little Houses

We cannot begin to see the realms beyond periphery

These ghosts and odd anomalies that whisper of reality

But modern man is so adept at skimming past the ocean's depths

From shoal to shore but still convinced

We can't feel the spinning underneath

This globe rotates and no one perceives

We're so small but man always believes

We are the center, measure of all things

If this is where we lie

Some place between the matter and the mystified

And only foolish minds would attempt to fit the universe inside

Maybe all our lives are founded

In the moments that escape our eyes

And prudent hearts will find that there

Is beauty in the mysteries of life

We are so small