let me be small

if, every now and again,
I must be smaller than myself –
then let me be small

let me curl into gray
unknowing stone, or disperse
downward as rain on windows

but let me be small
in the way of violets,
which at their core

are no less expansive
than the most colossal
of radiant skies

© Sarah Whiteley

watching trees

for three days now
I’ve watched the trees
searching for peace
between the leaves
for three days now
two weeping birches
danced with the rain
the fresh-leafed maple
bent beneath the wind
and a cluster of evergreens
ran in dreams with the night
without waking the sparrows
tucked into tufts of green
for three days now
I’ve watched the trees
looking for peace,
for answers, release
and am now persuaded
I am among the smallest
of all living things
for the trees
have never watched me

© Sarah Whiteley