These hands of mine—what could they possibly offer the world?

A world seeded by the stars themselves and moulded by millennia of winds and rain.
Mountains built by movements in the earth herself.
Canyons dug by methodical and relentless pressures.
Cities founded by visionaries and constructed by a million hands working as one.

How audacious must I be to reach out with my own chisel and carve my name in history?
To think my contribution valid?
To imagine any dent I make to be visible on the face of the planet?

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Exactly this audacious.
For I know these hands are more powerful than they appear.
I know that I too am seeded by the stars themselves.
I too am relentless.
I too am a visionary.
And I too am not alone.