In the vast utter darkness, the throat of deep space,
There’s a chalk dust eraser mark. It can be seen
From a vantage point one quarter light year away,
And the mirror’s reflection has something to say
In reply, as if answering, in its routine,
How humans are insignificant as a race.

In the dust band, and faintly, a tiny chalk dot
Sits alone unassuming and much on its own.
Everything everyone has done happened right there.
Every heartfelt emotion from joy through despair
Has been felt on that blue dot deep in a dark zone.
There they think they’re important and fear that they’re not.

In the cosmic arena, its rivers of blood,
Spilled by soldiers triumphant that they could become
Fearless masters a short while, offer little hope.
Evolution appears to be on the down slope
As our most fervent hatreds are beating the drum
Of a race war that will take all out with a thud.

This is our only planet. A home we have made
Of this thing that has birthed us and keeps us alive.
For now, migration to other worlds is obscene.
Until we can learn to keep our own noses clean,
It is best that, as one world, we learn to survive.
But perhaps we can’t do that because we’re afraid.