a jet flies overhead

a jet flies overhead
its engine echoes through clouds
across grasses hiding the tiny world of ants and beetles
above and beyond the much-too-large world of
people and their steel
(which becomes small anyway with the climbing of the plane
and IS small anyway with eternity all around)
a jet flies overhead
taking a part of me with it--sigh--if i
could see how
miniscule
fears
are
from a cloud's view,
if i could see how grain-of-sand
how microscopic (like the ant whose muscles strain under a crumb of bread)
if i could ride the sound waves
of that jet
what could i Know about
the value, the art of breathing