Mighty Giants (Typical, Normal, Regular)

In my dreams I am an eagle-

I soar through the sky

My wing’s edges catch the cloud’s edges

Water collects on my feathers

And the world stares up

Mouths agape

Fingers pointing

Excited chatter fills the air

But even its cushion can’t reach me

 

In my dreams I am a saint-

My hands are soft and weathered

Wrinkled skin scrubs at skinned knees

I wipe away tears

Hold the solid weight

Of a splintered donation box

My smile is constant but strained

Pulled taut

Like a ballerina’s leg

They pass by my stoop

And thank me

Praise flowing out

Like the river of my devotion

 

In my dreams I am a song-

I expand throughout a room

Filling the very corners

I turn heads

And entice ears

They all smile

And watch, drawn in

By my dance through the air

I tumble and stretch and spin

And they all keep their attention on me

Nowhere else

My heart leaps

Strings pop from it

Reaching for those

Seduced

I speak

I dance

I sing

And they listen

 

When I wake I am human-

Modest, unremarkable, small

In the grand scheme of the universe

I buy chips and oranges and toothpaste

Each week at the store

I wash the dishes when they pile up

My voice accompanies the singers on the radio

While I drive in the morning

And while I drive in the evening

Typical

Normal

Regular

Boring, even

 

I awe very few

For I have not honed considerable skill

My life is not dedicated to those in need

For I cannot put aside my selfish devotions

No audience gathers outside my door

For my thoughts are not incredibly noteworthy

But

 

I reach out

To outstretched hands

I lend an ear

When others will not listen

I care

For the people cloistered in the corner

I am

No hero

No star

No great leader

But I do reach out

I do find

Those little people

Regular

Normal

Typical

Small people

Who have forgotten

Like I once forgot

Where their value lies

And I sit

I listen

I reach

And I am not a remedy

No miracle cure

 

But I am

Who I needed when I too

Was alone.

And sometimes,

Taking a hand

Is all someone needs

To see the value

In their

Lives

Selves

Existence

 

For we may be

In the grand scheme of the

Stars streaking across the sky

And millions of explosions in

The world

And all the chemicals reacting

In our bodies

Rather small,

But in the lives of others,

We are mighty giants.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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