Changing Perspective Won’t Help

Take your pick.
You’re small, and you’re vast.
They’re equally true.

You can be Walt Whitman,
If you want—you do contain
Whole millions of multitudes.

You can be a speck,
A lowly germ in the whoosh
Of your era’s thundering heart,

A mite on the surface
Of a tiny bead spinning
Around a small, dull star in the dark—

Either way, as you like it,
Alternating, or both at once,
Nothing much in balance.