The smallest things
sometimes
give the greatest lift
to faces,
to hearts,
to whole days.
How can I say
How changed I feel, once more?
How can I paint into words,
the small drops of peace,
falling on my heart
like a quiet winter's rain?
Truly it is no doing of mine,
Surely it is through no strength I have,
no power in these hands,
no plan in this weary brain
framed this gift.
Yet here it shines
Something I was shaped to be,
Something I was formed to do,
Something I am gladdened by,
Grows in my hands,
Rests in my restless core,
And becomes real, once more.
in my healing heart.
If only I could share,
If only I could sketch with words,
If only I could pull this off...
It may be, I have.
(written in August,2002)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem