Vast Skin

I'm not sure this poem works, but I can't find a better way to capture the feeling it gives me. I don't know what it means, the edge of my skin, but it seems to make sense to some part of me. It's something like, I look at my own strength and it frightens me. I keep myself small because I am afraid of the vastness that I have seen inside myself. The question, who could be so vast, I love. Because we all are, and because it implies the existence of the witness inside us, who is so often exemplified by wonder and awe.

I did not take this picture and unfortunately, I don't know who did.