Little Things

Philosophical Vignettes

Still far below the dreamed-of peaks,
The trekkers scaled a mountainside.

They climbed up damp and calcined walls,
Scaled rocky ledges and steep cliffs.

The young boy quickly grappled stones,
Swiftly ascending up each crag.

His grip was anxious and zealous,
The master’s subtle, firm, and calm.

The boy soon quickly passed the sage,
Surpassing him by many feet.

Suddenly, reaching up once more,
He lost his grip and nearly fell.

The petrified young boy looked down,
Gazing into the gaping chasm.

“Don’t race across the difficult,
Or straddle unknown worlds,” chimed the

Old sage, “Practice the little things—
The difficult will come with ease.”

The master spoke, then looked ahead,
And climbed towards another ledge.

After some time, the travelers stopped
To rest along a narrow ridge.

Reflecting on their day and climb,
The sage turned to the weary youth.

“People often forget,” he said,
“The greatest truths are oftentimes

“The simplest ones, and yet, also
The hardest for one to accept.

“People will create infinite
Complexity in the vain hope

“That they might somehow figure out
How to escape these simple truths.”

The master peered over the ledge,
Smiling into the gaping chasm.

David B. Gosselin is a poet, translator, writer, and researcher based in Montreal. He is the founder of The Chained Muse and hosts Escaping the Brave New World.