Smallest freckle on an enormous face,
but a discoloration, an unnoticed mark, nothing outstanding,
floating in a sea of freckles in various sizes and shapes,
each one slightly different, yet none particularly out of place.
Finest tendril of hair curling amid many more,
but a glossy piece of silken floss, similar, not extraordinary,
twisting and blowing in the wind with so many together,
each one moves in its own direction, none unique to be sure.
Quietest voice in chorus of thousands rising,
but another note, a lovely tone, no more exciting than another,
lilting upwards on current of air blending with those surrounding,
each one seems to join the next, none unusual yet together surprising.
Solitary human among a populous unending,
but one sentient being, unremarkable, not special or famous,
lending single mind to collective consciousness of the world,
each one can do little alone, but together promise greatness impending.
Karen Quinn 2013