Unto himself the hermit muttered:
“Why I sit here unmoving, they ask!
When all the while within my being,
galaxies are born or made extinct.
I sit, swirling, on a body that spins
on its axis, hurtling through space
around its Sun, which in turn rotates
around the center of the Milky Way.
My inner core is connected to all life,
everywhere. I’m pushed and pulled at,
from all sides, on all levels. Nothing,
or nobody, ever truly sits still!”
Tell me: are you not moved by that?