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Too Small



It is our responsibility
to bring heat into the cold,
to fill what seems empty,
we tell ourselves.
All the things that are wrong with the world,
we must correct them.
We obsess over how
while no one has yet explained why.
Do we exist because the universe needed us,
did its parameters summon us,
or are we arrogance incarnate,
coming late
to what was already great?
Are we too small for destiny?

All poems are written and copyrighted by Michael C. Rush.
None may be republished or repurposed without permission.