I am small.
I am composed of universes colliding, dividing, exploding, and bursting past my skin into the atmosphere.
I am nothing.
But entire civilizations collapse and rise every second in my hand.
Galaxies divide and intermingle to create massive stars of energy.
And I crush them with the flick of my wrist.
There are millions of colonies of solar system on the tip of my finger, each more complex than any unnatural design by mere men, but they are destroyed instantaneously by the wind.
I am a giant.
A firmament spreads over me and encapsulates my home in bright lights.
I am gargantuan.
Yet the earth is so massive, I can’t comprehend it, and the sun can consume it without so much as a whimper.
Everyone we’ve ever known has lived on this remote speck of dust suspended on a sun beam.
We are so primitive and secluded in this microcosm of the universe we inhabit.
But I am a god who can walk the sky and form entire planets in my hands.