The speaker describes a moment where almost nothing happens, yet everything feels enormous. A faint light blinds them, a whisper of wind shoves them, a small step becomes a cliff. These images of tiny things turning huge show how overwhelmed the speaker is, even though, as they admit, "barely anything happened at all."
Then the poem turns on the word "except." The real event is quiet: someone's eyes meet theirs. In that instant the speaker feels, just for a moment, that they belong, not only in this place but in any place and time, as long as the other person is there too. The final lines are tentative. "We could belong" is a possibility, not a promise.
The mood is breathless and tender, with a hint of longing. The repeated "nothing" builds a calm surface, and the ending lets the feeling break through. It captures how a brief look can make someone feel suddenly, startlingly less alone.