Small Kindness: four poems by David Lee
- Apr 29
- 2 min read

River of Light
The morning breaks in silver threads
woven through the river’s skin.
Each ripple sings a quiet hymn,
praise of a hand unseen.
Willows bow like whispered prayers,
leaves trembling with holy breath.
Even the stones, steadfast and cold,
mirror the sun’s patient devotion.
I kneel at the water’s edge, heart open,
and for a moment, long enough to matter;
the river carries me
into the hush of God’s infinite presence.
*
After the Ash
The fire came, leaving skeletons of trees,
charred reminders of all I lost.
I walked through smoke, lungs heavy,
hands cupped to the grieving sky.
Yet in the blackened soil, green tremors stirred:
small shoots, brave and trembling.
A voice rose in me: “You are not alone.”
Hope is not loud; it pulses quietly,
a heartbeat beneath devastation.
Even after ash, even after night,
God’s mercy plants the first green.
*
The Road I Took
I walked through winters of doubt,
feet numb, heart unsteady,
asking questions that had no sound.
One evening, lantern in hand,
I saw a stranger share her bread,
and the warmth of that small kindness
taught me of God’s steady presence.
Every road, every stumble,
was a prayer I hadn’t known I spoke.
Now I see: the Lord walks ahead,
behind, and beside me,
tracing the path that leads home.
*
Petals and Revelation
A single bloom presses against the fence,
petals trembling with morning dew.
I watch, amazed,
how fragile color can split the gray.
God speaks not always in thunder
but in the quiet persistence of bloom,
in sunlight bending through windows,
in the way rivers trace the land,
in every mercy we overlook.
I bend closer, heart lifted:
the world itself a sermon,
each beauty a word of divine truth.


David Anson Lee is a poet, philosopher, and physician based in Texas whose work explores faith, nature, and human experience through lyrical imagery and spiritual reflection. His writing seeks to illuminate hope, joy, and the presence of God in everyday life. His work has appeared in multiple literary journals, and he aims to craft poetry that uplifts and inspires.
(April 2026 issue)




Comments