John Prophet

Gaze

Gazing.

Gazing 

into the

night sky,

as billions

have done

before.

Looking into

infinity.

Contemplating 

existence, 

reality.

Realizing 

all on this

mote we live,

confined.

Like a prison,

confined.

A prison of

thought.

Colloquial 

in nature.

A prison

of reality.

Civilization 

as is confined,

confined 

by primitive 

instincts.

Primitive 

knowledge.

Knowledge 

derived in

insignificance.

All that is

known dwarfed 

by all that’s 

not known.

Dwarfed

by everything,

everything 

out there,

way out there.

Ensconced in

our cradle,

part of the

whole. 

Yet, like 

fish 

in a bowl

knowing

not much of

anything!

Humbling 

it be.