Oh, How Large Are the Little Things You've Taught Me | Sam Hendrian
Stopped to sniff a roadside rose
Which I wouldn’t have done two years ago
But now there’s something in my nose
That won’t let any peripheral flower go.
Oh, how large are the little things you’ve taught me,
How important are the unimportant details
Bursting with unexpected beauty
And overflowing with insignificant tales.
I combine dinner with dessert
Because why the hell not
And I don’t mind eating off the dirt
Or leaving my apartment stained with snot.
What matters to most doesn’t matter to you
Which some might call eccentricity
Yet there’s no strange thing I’ve seen you do
That hasn’t proved you’ve got the right priority.
Oh, how exciting are the boring things you’ve taught me,
How unforgettable are the forgettable sights
Like you dozing off next to me
Providing peace for sleepless nights.
Sam Hendrian is a Los Angeles-based filmmaker, poet, and playwright striving to foster empathy through art. From writing personalized poems for passersby outside of LA's oldest independent bookstore every Sunday, to making Chaplin-esque silent films about loneliness and human connection once a month, Sam lives to make other people feel seen and validated.