Like a drop of water, In a bucket…
Like a small particle of dust Upon the fan…
Like a stray hair Upon your head…
Like the flake of paint That chips from the wall…
Like a single button On a keyboard…
Like a blade of grass In a field…
Like a single jelly bean In a jar…
Like a single wave In the ocean…
A lie may seem small but in the end It is the little things that add up to the larger scheme.
What you see as small and insignificant Others see it as deception And know that it adds up to a larger picture That makes all the difference in the world.
Like a drop of rain It falls As small as it is It’s still wet And can be felt.
I want to live in the place where you can see sounds and smell sights. The beauty of being immersed in every sense. Red felt like love, blue feels like peace… Where is this place? It is in every painting, every photo taken, every breathe that is released. Breath in and exhale your wildest dreams.
The birds crow a weeping melody, trees clean of leaves. A turning of a page like the seasons tend to be. They feel it coming long before.
Like people, the change is sensed before they heed. If humans were in tune with nature like the birds. They would never question how they read.
Emotions are like trees. Steady but ever-changing. Being in tune with oneself is all one really needs.
The birds they crow a weeping melody, as the trees are clean of leaves. If I could be in tune like that I would never need.
The thin line between Happiness and Joy is translucent, Barely felt by anyone really, emotion felt by the one who possesses it can be mistaken for either.
Happiness does not always mean Joy, Joy does not always mean one is Happy, It is up to you to decipher.
That thin line is shared with so many more emotions, One can mistake fright for anxiety, Sad for overwhelmed, confusion as excitement.
While thin, that line, means everything and nothing synonymously.
Of all the things in the shop, Henry hated parting with this… He saw the lady pick up the small shiny trinket. He thought, “She can’t want to buy that.” He had wanted to buy it for his grandmother for months. He had saved $120 but that was just a drop in the bucket this piece was $500. His grandmother had told him a story about a small metal jewelry box she owned long before she had ever thought about having children, let alone a grandchild. She had given him so much of her time and energy since his parents passed. All he wanted to do was give something back to her.
His heart broke as he rang the nice lady up and packaged the small metal jewelry box up. The elaborate metal work that showed a lattice and vine design upon the top glistened just like the tear in his eye. The woman held, took the bag, stopped, and turned to leave. He wanted to yell, cry, sob… but he simply said, “Thank you, Ma’am, and have a wonderful day.”
To shroud oneself when the rain pours down is but human, To clutch oneself tightly when the cold wind blows is but of man, To feel the cold touch ones bones is to feel life, To see beauty in the small things is ethereal,
These are the things that remind me daily that far from human is what I am….
