For the resounding voice of the wren who calls out from her post each dusk and dawn.
For the ant who willfully carries a heavy load, determined to persevere.
For the grandeur of the tiny snail who honors his steadfast pace.
For the dandelion who reaches for the sun in the most inhospitable places.
The sacred may be found on a mountaintop or in the depths of a canyon.
But I will always have reverence for the
small things.
~ Stacey Hayes ~
This poem is dedicated to the creatures of Ukraine who may be suffering.
