Your Insigficant Fist

There is wonder in the smallest of things,
Whether snail, or leaf,
Or imagined unseen fairy ring,
Hidden beneath bark and its rough-hewn face,
The life of the whole,
Depends on each organism's place.
Each twining of precarious life and death,
Reflects the larger frame,
The fragility of our drawn breath.
Without the small,
The larger does not exist,
Remmember that O soul,
When you tighten your insignficant fist.
Love must precede, envelop,
And come after all,
Else the plan that supports cannot but fall.
Love then, is the answer to prevail,
It must, lest all else fail.