One person

You can't help but feel small when you fly above the world.
Seeing lights, landscapes and life stretch out as far as the eye can see.
Is the fog rolling in over the hills, or over your beliefs of existence?

How small are we really? One person, among billions. 
Living on one planet in one solar system among billions.

The smallest action requires a lot of work. 
The hands writing this are using one combination of muscles, different to the set that I could use to play piano or pick up a paintbrush.
Another set of muscles make my eyes blink as I look into the night.
Yet another load of muscles enables me to cross my legs to get comfortable.

One muscle quickens as I consider the vast expanse of the universe and how insignificant I am. How insignificant you are. In the grand scheme of things.

Surely we're all here for a reason. Whether to be the villain, the hero, the sidekick.
We are all heroes in our own stories, and villains or sidekicks in the stories of others.

I stare into the night sky, the hero of my own story. I don't feel small; I feel just the right size.