Small Things

It’s never that one big thing

that grand gesture

the opulent present

or the vast quantity spent

much is done in small ways

the tiny hand holding on a finger

a small crocus defiantly breaking through

a slight word that either cuts or heals

we live the butterfly effect

with our daily small gestures

a smile or frown

a look into another’s eyes

or downcast and aloof

can do so much to build or destroy

the fragile human heart.

I think of these things

as I write this poem

knowing my few words

are just small things

being tossed into the sea

a letter in a bottle

to one day wash 

upon a lonely, distant shore

there to be read

by one lost and afraid

who seeks just that,

small words to comfort

to heal the wounds

wrought in the daily living

that touch the heart

with a small breath

that lingers on the soul.

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