A Speck

I am but an insignificant speck, in this expanding, never ending universe My existence, nothing more than a good piss, into a vast ocean to disperse My words, though at times austere, are not etched in granite stone Nor, come from a fiery bush, atop a mount; for you to then enthrone My life, a gust of wind, like a forced fart; an odour, unable to whisk up dust A mere annoyance, which a tempest force has spewed, in disgust I can but dream, that any meager accomplishment, could have any meaning In this immense, never ending macrocosm; from which, I am still gleaning I move no stars, heal no wounds, and erase no scars from this existence A mere wretch, only scratching at the surface, trying to go the distance But my will is strong, my faith, ingrained by loving virtuous ancestors So I hope, that even a speck, will at some point, radiate, before it festers BOEMS BY JA 596