Shall I spend what remains of my precious time merely agreeing or disagreeing with everyone I meet and with every piece of information that comes my way? Would this not keep me in a state of perpetual opinion, sure I am right, and therefore willfully blind? Or shall I work to remain open, and tremble and sway with life as it passes through me and around me, like the trees?
Oh, the poor burning sequoias! The idea that human life is more sacred or valuable than these is to condemn ourselves to the same hellish outcome.
Very early this morning, soon after rising, I heard two owls calling, one treble, one bass. I remembered my piano lessons.
October 9, 2021
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Categories: New Poems & Pieces