Little Seeds of Joy

Today, I planted a smile

in the garden of my morning—

just a quiet hello

to the barista who remembered my name,

a wave to the neighbor’s cat

sunbathing on the windowsill.

I tucked a small hope

into the pocket of my jacket,

let it warm me

as I walked through puddles

and watched the clouds drift apart.

By lunchtime,

my little seeds of joy

had already started to sprout—

a kind word from a friend,

a song I hadn’t heard in years

playing softly in the café.

Happiness doesn’t always bloom all at once.

Sometimes, it grows slowly—

one gentle moment

at a time.

And by the time the sun sets,

I find myself

holding a handful of tiny flowers

I didn’t even know I’d planted.