I shall write of tiny things
Like the conch that fits in my palm, into which the ocean leaps,
waves painting whorls on the shell
Like the flame at the end of a match illuminating the world in its glow
the second before it swallows a forest
Like the pollen grain of a sunflower
powdery dust that blossoms into a field
Like a grain of sand pressed into a footprint
along an endless shoreline
Like the snowflake at the end of a pine branch
gathering courage to melt into the river
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
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
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