Little Things
A kiss from grandmother
a prayer that rain
will wash our land
the acorn that sleeps
a tangy breeze
heralding love
a leaf that falls
and turns its brightness
though we know
nothing is lost;
and here in the dark
as the solstice rolls:
a dusty shed
and a small cry
harbored in whispers
warmed by hands
eager to hold
the little visitor
who arrived at last
who heard sounds
that sang in his ears
who looked into eyes
joying the newness
who snuggled safe
while the watchful night
breathed again 鈥�
little things
give hope.
Dec 20, 2017
