I am small
a part of myself.
I cannot see
all of me.

Birds fly
in the cool morning
through the rain.
I seem to be with them.
How big am I?

I am small.
Tree and mountain
lift themselves high
to be with sun and stars.
Are they, also, I?

I touch leaves and loves
music and madness.
I hold the sun in a heart
that seems to be my own.

How big am I
to hold the sky
the sun and moon
the birds that fly?

Am I small at all
just an autumn leaf
in free fall?
Am I more
than in the mirror
I seem to be?

A star
light years away
said, “I am small.”
I heard it call
in the night
with a voice
that was my own
and was my all.

---

Portland, Oregon – October 11, 2018

I don’t know the artist or origin of the print I’ve used here.  It comes from a Pinterest post but without credit provided.  I wish I knew.