Only a few things are really important,
Like say warm tea on rainy afternoon..
Friday, June 3, 2011
I suppose it would be easy to make this a post about death, the end, and all those mortal conundrums. But then where would that leave life, light and beauty?
I suppose it would be easy to focus on the dirt and the mud. But where would that leave that fighting life, that new blade of life?
I suppose this could have been a sullied ending. But it just as well could be a benign beginning.
I suppose things could be anything. People could be any one. Something one minute. Someone another. But where would that leave me.
I suppose this isn't about flowers or the grass, beginnings or the end, or anything of that sort. But then again, I suppose this isn't about me.