It doesn’t matterif I forget to make
I’m just going
to sleep in it
It doesn’t matter
if I eat that last
piece of pie,
it’s small and
it was so good.
It doesn’t matter if I miss yoga class,
they won’t miss me.
It doesn’t matter if I don’t make that call,
she’s probably busy any way.
It doesn’t matter if I don’t create art today,
no one will notice or care.
It doesn’t matter if I don’t write that poem,
few people like poetry anyway.
It doesn’t matter if I don’t vote today,
everyone knows who’s going to win.
There is a theory of broken windows that says little things matter. People see other people getting away with minor crimes and they think they will also. They see broken windows in a building and assume no one cares, that it’s okay to break more or take that interesting bit of decoration. The first tagger who spray paints his name on a billboard opens the door to others.
Thinking about this concept made me wonder about the broken windows in my life. What are they and what effect do they have?
Obviously, little things matter. If I don’t make my bed in the morning, I have a tendency to throw things on top of it and soon it’s a looming mess. Eating that last piece of pie is sort of like a broken window ... if I can eat that, I can also order fries instead of salad, and oh those mocha lattes! Maybe no one will miss me at yoga class, but my body knows and after awhile, it tells me about it.
They're small things those
and uncast votes ...
They may each seem as if they don’t matter,
but they all add up to a life unlived.
Every breath we take,
Each decision we make,
All the lessons we learn ...
I … you … he … she … we ...
Every one of us matters.
Earth, air, water, sunflowers, frogs, fungi,
even chiggers and bacteria,
every micro nit beneath our view,
all the stars, black holes and universes
beyond our scope,
Every thing matters.
(c) Copyright, Joyce Wycoff, 2017