Poetry
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Because I love this life…

And because I love this life I know I shall love death as well. The child cries out when From the right breast the mother Takes it away, in the very next moment To Find in the left one Its consolation. ― Rabindranath Tagore, Gitanjali

On kindness

Kindness by Naomi Shihab Nye, 1952 Before you know what kindness really is you must lose things, feel the future dissolve in a moment like salt in a weakened broth. What you held in your hand, what you counted and carefully saved, all this must go so you know how desolate the landscape can be between the regions of kindness. How

To You

STRANGER! if you, passing, meet me, and desire to speak to me, why should you not speak to me? And why should I not speak to you? Walt Whitman (1819–1892).  Leaves of Grass.  1900.