-- The Little Poem --

by John Herlihy

Let me make a short preface

An explanation needs be said

Mystery lies below the surface

A tapestry begins with a thread

How could something so little,

Turn out to shine so big.

This brief poem nothing to belittle,

A blossom turns into a fig.

An idea from nothing born,

A vision in the mist.

Beauty from simplicity torn,

The poem in our midst.

Letters assembled silent on a page,

From breath to sound to life.

Words of wisdom that will never age,

The poem cut open by a knife.

Wind and sand make no promises,

Sand rides the wind without guile.

The little poem vast truth addresses,

Speaks humbly in its simple style.

The little poem writ ever so large,

Simple words passion contain.

Its brave little heart fully in charge,

Its simple words to proclaim.

The valley begrudges not the mountain,

Valleys and mountains unite as one.

Water begrudges not the bubbling fountain,

As drops of water into ocean sprung.

A simple drop falls into a pond,

The unity in all nature assembles.

Bound together in intimate bond,

The serenity of the pond trembles.

The little poem breathes true life fair,

Each word as breath to survive.

Into the future whispered prayer,

The poem completed as spirit alive.

The little poem read as follows,

As it lies expectantly on a scroll.

Echoing voices of dawn swallows,

As it lays bare its beautiful soul:

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THE LITTLE POEM

I will wait and continue to wait,

With patience and with passion.

I know the wait will come true ,

With one brief glance from You.

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Copyright © John Herlihy

Sunday 29 December 2024