Move the World

I offer whatever I do, and let it go. Letting it go is what turns the world. Not the effort, but dropping the effort in the action, like a finger writing on water.

I do not know if what I do could move the world, or change anything, or if the world is a great circle, ever returning. I do know that each of us is a butterfly wing, moving a breath of air that lifts a wisp of pollen and blows it away, to fall on its dust-mote-mate in a distant meadow, spawning a flower that will be given to a lady, who will glance into a pair of longing eyes and reconsider his soul, 
and fall in love, conceiving an infant who 
will grow up into a farmer, whose wheat will
nourish a poet who will inspire a teacher to 
empower a child to become a doctor who will save 
a baby's life, that she might grow into a spiritual 
teacher, who could move the world a little closer 
to its heart.