It’s All Fleeting

I am quite sure 

I am a randomly assembled

mass of stardust 

gravitationally affixed

to a sphere of rock 

as it hurtles 

through a cosmic void 

at 67,000 miles per hour.

Just like everything else 

that ever was or will be, 

I am little more than a

speck of dust, 

or perhaps 

a fleeting image

in a dream the universe 

is having about itself. 

The same goes for you.