The Very Small Man

The Very Small Man Lives in a Very Big Place Inside a VERY BIG PLACE He never visits. Inside his Very Big Place, The walls are of polished gold - By their magic Every reflection looks BIG (Like the VERY BIG PLACE outside). So the Very Small Man Thinks he is a Very Big Man, His Very Small Court Think they are Very Big, too (Though not so big, of course, as him). The gold reflects sound, So the Very Small Man Has a Very Big Voice That makes him sound Important (Especially to himself). Gold makes everything look pretty, So the Very Small Man and his court Believe themselves all A Little More Equal To those not so reflected. So they talk loudly Bask in their shine Never noticing How very small they really are. But out in the VERY BIG PLACE, (Where the real gold of the real sun shines, Where real facts about real things are heard, Where what is said is what is meant), The Very Small Man and his Very Small Court Are like the circus at the edge of town, Glittering in the distance, In the end, a nuisance. One day, the people of the VERY BIG PLACE Will tire of the noise and glare Spilling out of the Very Big Place; The circus will be run out of town. When that happens, The Very Small Man Will retreat to an even smaller place Inside his mind, Which is also lined With reflecting, echoing gold, Where he will go on, Loudly saying Important Things to himself And dreaming on the Bigness He sees inside the gold... But outside No one will be listening anymore; His Very Big Place Will be eaten by Reason, Swallowed by Time, Forgotten. In Blessed Silence.