Like the conch shell that fits in my palm into which the ocean leaps
Like the flame at the end of a match
the second before it swallows a forest
Like the pollen grain of a sunflower
That blooms into a field
Like a grain of sand pressed into a footprint
on an endless shoreline
Like the snowflake at the end of a pine branch
that melts into the river below
Like this tear drop in the corner of my eye
That holds the weight of your passing
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Little things that hold big things
Little things that are part of big things
Like the first stroke of the pen
In a letter to you
Like a grain of sand pressed into a footprint
on an endless shoreline
Like the snowflake at the end of a pine branch
that melts into the river below
Like the rock shot from a black hole
colliding, merging to solidify into Earth
Like the primoridal rock shot from a black hole
Colliding, merging to solidify into Earth
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