That you are here.

“O Me! O Life!”
by Walt Whitman

O Me! O life!… of the questions of these recurring;
Of the endless trains of the faithless—of cities fill’d with the foolish;
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light—of the objects mean—of the struggle ever renew’d;
Of the poor results of all—of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me;
Of the empty and useless years of the rest—with the rest me intertwined;
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?


That you are here—that life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.

Oh, Uncle Walt, how did you know about “myself forever reproaching myself?” How did you know about my foolishness and faithlessness? Is it because it’s just part of what it means to be human? I sure hope so. I haven’t felt lately like I was contributing much of anything to the world’s stage. Thanks, Uncle Walt, for that answer, for the reminder of goodness.

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