There is motion in the little things
that touch me like nothing else
the soft moments of morning light
cool air like the most delicate fingers
reaching my skin to close that sacred bond
Little drops of purest water sticking to the gras
earths sweat from night's passion to be reborn
in the midst of it all my little me
that weak and smallest link
only here to watch and leave without a trace by the next morning's time
photo source: https://unsplash.com/photos/a8lTjWJJgLA
