how precious is Life?
(must we search sea, sky to know?)
can’t we see ourselves?
I woke up from a mid-days nap not with a thought, but an understanding. I am not a soul encapsulated in a body, but rather a functioning system with some measure of control. Control over whether I raise my fist to fight or poise my pen to write.
Life is precious.
Written: 4-20-2014 (Easter Sunday)
Walking through the Arnold Arboretum