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.
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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.