Specks Above, Specks Below

Standing on the roof of a church,

Perspective finds me.

No closer to god, but maybe to the devil.

Smoke escapes my lips, a sigh

Of incense offered to the infinite

Watching eyes of cold starlight.

From their seats in eternity,

They see but a speck on a

Grand tapestry, inconsequential.

But the speck cares.

And that’s why they watch.