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A Poem About Little Things
A pebble in my shoe making an impression
which leads to this confession;
I don’t know what to do
about this pebble in my shoe…such a little thing.
It shouldn’t bother me, but it does…
I leave it there because…
It’s such a little thing.
The comment I just heard,
such a little word,
a mustard seed now planted in my mind.
There it grows and sprouts,
fruits of woes and doubts,
suspicions of every sort and kind.
And now a thorn resides,
beneath the flesh it hides,
how troublesome it is beneath my skin.
How did the thorn get there?
…a waste of time to care…
Does it really matter how the thing got in?
So pluck it out, throw it down,
find it’s new place on the ground,
though it’s size is no bigger than a grain.
something all of us should know,
from one grain a crop will grow,
just as little things will magnify our pain.
by Leland Johnson