A Tiny Spark Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

The coffee brews at seven sharp,
The street is just the same.
The clock ticks on a steady path,
Without a voice or name.

A quiet day, a simple shift,
A word we didn't say.
Some tiny spark, a hidden gift,
That passed us by today.

We walk along the beaten track,
And take it all as true.
But if we stop and look way back,
We see a different view.

For what was small to all the rest,
Meant everything to one.
A gentle word, a little test,
Before the day was done.

It's hard to stop and turn the light
Toward our own deep heart,
To see what would have made it bright,
And set the day apart.

We look for kindness in the crowd,
Or praise that's softly spoken,
While wishing we were just allowed
To keep a quiet token.

If I had held the space for you,
And you had seen my core,
Perhaps the days would feel more new,
And mean a little more.