Family

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Small Things

This was the year
Of small things for me,
The single flower on the plant -
Not the flower bed.

The pots of flowers -
Not the field.
The sweet smell of rain,
A single snowflake.

Not a large lawn as before,
But the small green patch
Outside my kitchen window.

One hour, one minute,
A special glance,
A smile, a helping hand,
An offer of a prayer.

Time was, when a large lawn
Was my charge. Flower beds,
Pruning sheers, fertilizer
In huge bags, spreaders.

Painting trim,
Lawn ornaments,
Bird houses.

But this year,
There was no time.
For, time had ceased
For mother and me.

Oh, we became a year older.
But, a subtle enemy
Crept into mother’s mind.

Now, no new memories
And all past memories
Are nearly gone.

When I’d like to ask,
"How’d you do that, Mother?",
I hold my peace, knowing
There is no answer.
There is no question.

So, we share the small things;
The moment, the minute -
Not the hour.

The birds at the window feeder
And the antics of the squirrel.
The faithfulness of one little dog.
A cheery smile that someone brings us.

I can hardly believe
The gratefulness in my heart
For that one who causes her face
To develop a smile,
Knowing It’s there now,
And that is all there is.

The sight, that would have made
A beautiful memory,
But, now, can’t find the circuits.

Little things, little moments,
Minute trivialities that did their job
For only right now.



© 2002 by Joan Clifton Costner
http://underhiswings0.tripod.com

"For I have learned in whatsoever state I am,
therewith to be content."
Philippians 4:11

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