They are little,
it seems like they are insignificant.
Individually, perhaps they are.
Bits of H2O.
Alone, they are just that:
But gather them together.
No longer droplets or insignificance.
They can cloud the view,
make a puddle,
or a stream,
or a river,
crashing and snatching anything in the path.
Little turned big:
like droplets of ill.
Little thoughts, doubts, bitterness, anger,
Left alone they are small,
but if allowed to gather,
But what else?
Little drops of hope,
Itty-bitty, tiny, seemingly insignificant:
what if they grow,
What we allow to join together in our minds,
will be the force that drives us where it will,
the force that breaks us up
or mends us up.
Fill up the good stuff.
Flush the bad.
Give it to God
and watch him fill the droplets up:
and running over.
Joining Gypsy Mama's 5-minute Friday
where we write about the word prompt for 5 minutes.
also linking to: