The Littlest Things.

In barren fields I stand;
The wind blows through my heart.
Upon this desolate land,
I've cherished from the start.

And tiny specks of light;
They flicker through this field.
As they fade into the night,
All that's broken becomes healed.

So as my soul is calmed;
And all that's fragile becomes new.
I revel in the overlooked;
 The little things that grew...