A Small, Simple Thing

It flows between two hearts over there.
It leaps, as cunning as a fox or a cat.
Proud as a peacock and graceful as a swan.
Its edges might be sharp, as prickly as thorns.
It walks and mingles among us unseen.
A free spirited child, running through fields of flowers.
The song played tonight by a thousand crickets.
It can be cold.
It can be hard.
But can't it also be steadfast and strong?
A secret-keeper.
A truth-teller.
It is softer than the softest silk.
So white and pure and perfect straight through.
This is but a small, simple thing…





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