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I think nothing
of a splinter,
until my hand slides
down a wood rail
and a sliver pierces
my finger,
then I can think of
nothing else.

A small seed means nothing,
until my mother plants it,
and a flower blooms,
then its aroma reaches my
nose and makes me feel good,
or causes me to sneeze.

A simple word, like love, means nothing,
until I hear it spoken and see it lived out
by someone who matters most to me,
then I feel more alive than ever.

Small things,
they don't mean much at all,
until they somehow find their way
into my life,
through a splinter,
through a flower,
through a word,
like love.

Copyright © 2005 by the author or Christianity Today/Campus Life magazine.
Click here for reprint information on Campus Life.

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