Sometimes, it’s the simplest things, the tiniest moments that solidify a love, that highlight its worth. Sometimes it’s not grand gestures with boomboxes above our heads, it’s a brush of skin that never gets kissed, and the lips upon it. This poem, Typewriter Series #3069 is about precisely that, the tiny moments that shape what we call love, what we define as intimacy, more than all other things combined.
I adore this. ❤️
I can't emphasize and agree with this more. Just, YES. The small moments, the little things that go unnoticed...that is where the greatest magic of life exists.
Do you think your Buddhist practice helps you see these small things more easily? It seems gratitude helps create a habit of finding the small joys in life