Don’t ever under estimate the power of you. One look or touch. Or poem or prayer. You can make a difference for someone.
I cut this little poem out the newspaper when I was 13-years-old. I can’t say it is what sparked my interest in poetry. At that time I had already been writing (and thinking!) feverishly for over a year. But it did make me think a lot about perspective: The voice of someone who spoke for one who could not speak. And about finding beauty even in death and sadness: Somebody loved this poor cat for the sheer reason that nobody else did. Loved him enough to write a poem.
For a busy world, the poem was a quick-awe-isn’t-that-sad-but-sweet enough. For a very serious young poet, its message was deep-deep-deep enough. I’ve kept it all these years–folded and stuffed into a very special old book. Every time I read it, I take comfort in knowing our world will never be too big or too busy for us to stop and simply love. Nobody’s too small. Somebody cares.
That’s a lot of something.