For Monica

A beautiful spring afternoon
has encaptured the likeness of your face;
And as we begin our trek along the shore,
the soft breeze blowing past your sandals;
You gently pick up a pebble and place it on my palm,
Its smoothness from years of experience,
Of confronting the vastness of the ocean;
I toss it back into the sea,
and as it danced along the water's surface, you say
How so, can the insignificant ripples created
may ultimately become tidal waves where the eye cannot see?
I turn to you and reply,
The littlest things, when given enough time
Can make the biggest differences;
Maybe one day, the littlest things that I do,
will become the tidal waves of your life.