Small Fry

By accident, chance
or some mistake,
as from a sleep
he blinks awake,
then blinks again
and he’s a man
with thoughts,
ideas, dreams, a plan.
What matter if
dream, plan, idea
are airy nothings,
mere chimera?
He dreams himself
a Monarch,
Imperial of size,
by God granted
over lands and seas
and skies.
This tiny atomy
of trivial anatomy,
when ruled
against the all,
must learn a painful
of the trivial
and small,
of error, faulty vision,
faulty knowledge and
The Fall...
and what a blink
it is to think.
he dreams to be,
King of the sea,
this tiny fish
dark in the Deep,
awash in dreams
and soon to sleep.