Concord — harmony; a grape; a town; Emerson; Thoreau; all that’s forgotten, but not unknown. * Negativity: the great pandemic. Yet the cure is instantaneous, and starts with yourself. * How strange, being a member of a species smart enough to kill itself. And here is our mother, gently whispering over us, Live, and we think her voice is only the sound of the waves, the wind in the trees. […]
My life is a slow sentence — written in faith and served with relish. . [ 1657 ]
Sometimes I feel I could live to be a very old man. Sometimes I feel I already have. Sometimes I feel the end is near, as it always has been. Sometimes I feel quite young, a boy laughing where the spirit is. . [ 1647 ]
I don’t mind being simple. The earth is simple. Crumble me. Turn me with a shovel. See me full of worms and roots. . [ 1644 ]
Leaves crisp where they’ve fallen, grass growing through. Winter’s a love story. We are too. . [ 1643 ]
My heartbeat, the wind in the trees, the sounds of the squirrels and birds, the sigh of traffic on Interstate 5, the ringing in my ears, the kettle on to boil, the flushing of the toilet, voices in the street — these, along with every whisper within and beyond, are the music of my life. They’re my silence, too. How easily, effortlessly, they will end. . [ 1634 ]
There’s no need to prove my worth. Life has already done so by bringing me here. Proof — according to whose set of rules? according to which belief or philosophy? compared with which saint, hero, or lunatic, widely or privately known? When I’m grateful — truly grateful — don’t I already give joy to the world? . [ 1630 ]
this life’s a child’s balloon / you never know / when she’ll let go . [ 1619 ]
Infinite, perfect, effortlessly unfolding — such is life, such is nature, such is the universe. And when I see myself as apart from it, that is my pain, my unhappiness, my curse. . [ 1612 ]
William Michaelian 