Ripples

You are hardly a speck in this universe. A speck the size of stars and you're still merely dust. So the size of your words, uttered but once into this crowded barren plane of space and time, will mean nearly nothing to those who came before and will surely come afterwards. But for today, how do these murmurs affect those floating on about you. Though you have your six inches of space, there are billions nearby who await those words to fall upon their ears. Never deaf nor blind to the injustice you've portrayed with a single word. But in time, I suppose, that word will just float away, becoming less than dust in the days to come; less than you and I. These blind words wisp away and become echoes in the universe. But where might they resonate?