The Weight of Small Things

A warm cup held between both hands,

Steam rising like a prayer at dawn—

No one else may ever notice,

But it’s the moment I hold on.

A gentle breeze through open windows,

That lifts the curtain just so slight,

The rustle of the leaves outside—

A whispered poem, soft and light.

The smile of someone passing by,

No words exchanged, just kindness felt.

In a world that rushes past me,

That smile made my anger melt.

A note left folded on the table,

“I love you,” scribbled, slightly bent.

I’ve kept it now for seven winters—

It means more than what was meant.

The sound of laughter in the hallway,

The scent of rain against the street,

The way my dog leans into me,

A love so simple, calm, and sweet.

The pause before my mother answers,

The way she still says my full name,

A memory that somehow soothes me,

Like childhood tucked inside a frame.

The tiny stars we miss at night

Because we search for bigger things—

Yet sometimes, peace is in the pebble,

Not always in the diamond ring.

I used to chase the grand, the glowing,

Dreams too tall to hold or keep.

Now I find myself in moments

So small they almost fall asleep.

But oh—how loud their silence speaks,

How much they teach without a sound.

In these still, unshouting wonders,

A life’s true weight is often found.

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Thank you for reading.

Regards: Fazal Hadi