Fish, As Me

In the endless
Immeasurable expanse
Extending, enveloping all space
In each direction reaching
Unknown distances
And stupendously — a little me
Soaked
In all this immensity

As a tiny fish
Suddenly becoming aware
Of the unending, unfathomable
Ocean surrounding it
Above, below, in all directions
And it, the tiny little fish
Wondering about —

The odds of wondering
Thinking, feeling, and
The odds
Of not being terrified
Awestruck at the utter, inexplicable
Pointlessness, and absurdity

Of being
A singular point, in the midst
Of infinity
Swimming, suspended —
Utterly indifferent
To being gulped, gone, erased
From this astounding
Incalculable improbability

The fish wonders, as me
How in sea or on earth
Some fish could ever believe —
Concoct and peddle
Even bigger of an absurdity

That survival of the tiny fish
In this inexplicable, unsayable
Unimaginable profundity
Were the drives, the motives
That moved the fish
Or me

Wiggling its fins, tapping
The keys, the fish writes
With utter certainty —
That never has there ever, nor could be
Survival of the one
The motive, intent, or impulse
Driving the movement
Of fish, or me

That the only absolute
There could — would ever be
Is always this, precise
Singular
Unmistakeable point
Of fish, as me —

Shrugging
The nonsense, the noise
Fish looks down — the ground
And dives in
Its infinity