The Majesty of the Minuscule #162

The Majesty of the Minuscule In whispers soft, where shadows play, A truth profound, in light of day, Small deeds, small seeds, beneath the sun, Hold power vast, when day is done. For in the gentle grasp of hands, That tend the least, where virtue stands, Lies strength to move the mountains high, And reach the stars, in boundless sky. Like boiling fish with care and thought, A lesson in simplicity taught. For nations rise and empires fall, On small deeds done, that echo call. Upon a cross, a man was hung, A tale of love, from ages sprung. A minor act, in eyes of men, Yet heaven moved, again, again. For God Himself, in love's pure form, Saw worth in small, through raging storm. The crucifix Christ bore that day, A beacon bright, in darkest fray. "Faithful in least, then much," He said, A path of truth, for feet to tread. From mustard seed, a tree does grow, In humble acts, great rivers flow. A boy, his lunch, two fish, five bread, On such small gifts, a multitude fed. A miracle, from scant supply, A testament, that faith runs high. Remember then, 'a little leaven', Affects the whole, a lesson given. In every act, no matter small, A chance to rise, a call to all. To see beyond, the size, the scale, Where tiny deeds, against the gale, Can shift the world, make giants kneel, For in the small, true power we feel. So nurture every task, each care, With love that's boundless, rich, and rare. For in the end, it's clear to see, The smallest acts, set spirits free. -Written by Steven G. Lee (January 31, 2024)