(no subject)

[kingsleya]

You are, indeed, important:
crucial.
You are surely insignificant:
a bubble in an effervescence.

Paradox.

When you pass, the sun won’t rise?
The sun has risen after the nights that have seen the passage of men and women about whom Providence and Fortune and Human Spirit danced or raged or surged; they lived their span and the sun circled their days and did not cease to circle those who carry on the work and the exploration or the simple living in the light.

And you’ll stand in lines.
And you’ll be ignored, passed by.
And you will be a love whose passion is so pure that a man must bind himself to be away.
And you will be a wit to keep compatriots alive, the bones on which they sharpen their teeth.
And you will be an intellect by which the young will learn.
And you will be ignored and they will fall,
and you will be the one to tend the wound or bury the body.
And you will be one to be tended-to.

But tending, burying, teaching;
the cycle
done well or poorly.
(Have you never seen the pauper’s graves or prison cemetery?)

Do you recognize the gravity of your role,
that it brings the sun to revolve around you?