This is poetry. Oddly, reminded me very much of an all-time favorite I once saw on train on commute (Poetry in Motion) at a could-not-have-been-better time (as always happens with this kind of thing) & immediately memorized and have turned over, observed and sat quietly with in my mind many times since:

I had grasped God's garment in the void
But my hand slipped
On the rich silk of it.
The 'everlasting arms' my sister loved to remember
Must have upheld my leaden weight
From falling, even so,
For though I claw at empty air and feel
Nothing, no embrace,
I have not plummeted.

ETA: see, tolja: just typing it up made me well up. I took only one liberty, and that was only punctuational. I think it's that they have similar intimate conversational rhythm.

I've always had trouble with the size of clouds.
I know they're huge. I can see their shapes.
But I don't really see them as objects
on the same scale as trees
and buildings.
They're a backdrop.

Stars are the same way.
I know they're scattered through an endless ocean,
but my gut insists they're a painting
on a domed ceiling.

If I try hard enough,
I get a glimmer of depth,
a dizzying sense of space.

But then everything snaps back.

So one summer afternoon

I set up two HD webcams
hundreds of feet apart,
pointed them at the sky,
and fed one stream to each of my eyes.

The parallax extended my depth perception
by a thousand times,
and I stood in my living room
at the bottom of an abyss
watching mountains drift by.