Saturday, June 04, 2011

I've been visiting my father, who is recovering from the removal of his spleen. I thought he was near death. Thankfully, this turned out not to be the case. I know that he will die someday, just as I will. No sense spending each day worrying about death, and what might happen if I do.

Life is beautiful for me today. I will enjoy the gift. Who am I to deny it? One of the greatest gifts to me is the joy I get from writing. I used the gift this morning. Here's what came out.


We Are The All

I've been the abuser. I've been the abused, the double time looser—the one none would choose. I've been the greater, and the lesser one too. I've been the slave and the slave maker too.

Oh, I've been the all, and all, and all, and all. I've been the all.

Whatever I was, it looked a lot like you. I once was a king and the king maker's tool. We've carried the murder, deep in my soul. We've seen through the gunpowder's haze. We're children of the instant, the ancients of days.

Yes, we're the all, and all, and all and all. We are all.

We can lock ourselves up in a prison of fear. We can make ourselves worry the world's end is near. We can judge one another, finding fault after fault. Or, we can stand up for kindness and walk the walk.

Yes, we're the all, and all, and all and all. We are the all.



1 comment:

sscove said...

my best to Holland.