Beginnings

March 23, 2018
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The smal things are the things we don't notice.

They are the things that are always there.

They are the things that people ignore.

They are the things we walk past.

 

The small things are everywhere.

They are in the earth we walk upon.

In the crunch of frost-touched ground beneath our feet.

In the beauty of an individual snowflake.

in the pattern made as the ground is dusted with ice.

 

We don't notice these things, these small, small things

Passing through life in a hurry, we don't take the time to see these small, small things.

Some will pause momentarily, maybe think of these things, but few muster the courage to stop.

Even less think about the number of miracles and coincidences it takes to form these small, small things.

 

The small things appear at anytime.

They are in the strong buds pushing their way to the surface.

In the light patter of raindrops against a tin roof.

in the soft breezes that ruffle hair and carry whispers of far places to listening ears.

In the gentle yet firm bloom of a flower.

 

These things, these small, small things, become so ordinary we ignore them.

We tune out the small things as extra, as unimportant.

The small things seem small, at first glance.

But everything large was once small.

The small things are only beginnings.

 

The small things are hard to notice, because they're small.

But the small things were part of every big thing.

The giant redwood, so massive it blocks out the sunlight, was once a sapling.

The great blue whale, largest animal in the seas, was once no larger than a man.

The great mountains, scraping the sky with stone teeth, grew with the pressure of the earth.

 

We notice the small things when they become big things.

Rarely, or never, before.

We have to force ourselves to notice the small things.

But notice them we must.

 

The small things become big things, and the big things fade away.

But the fading brings more small things.

The type of small things that make us smile.

A falling leaf, drifting from a tree.

An icy breeze, carrying it to the ground.

Sray clouds drifting through the sky.

Color dying the sides of the mountains.

 

Few notice these small, small things.

But as the small things become big things, we begin to see them.

The small things are just as important.

We must notice the small things.

Because the small things are beginnings.






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