Men In Little Houses

We cannot begin to see the realms beyond periphery
These ghosts and odd anomalies that whisper of reality

But modern man is so adept at skimming past the ocean's depths
From shoal to shore but still convinced

We can't feel the spinning underneath
This globe rotates and no one perceives
We're so small but man always believes
We are the center, measure of all things

If this is where we lie
Some place between the matter and the mystified
And only foolish minds would attempt to fit the universe inside

Maybe all our lives are founded
In the moments that escape our eyes
And prudent hearts will find that there
Is beauty in the mysteries of life

We are so small