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personal poetic

The last leaf

I’m looking for the time when it won’t be a struggle to write here every day. To say I don’t have time to write makes me feel weak. I do!

And then there are days like today, when nothing in my head comes forward for me to write. I’m no good at reaching back in there and grabbing things. So I submit something previously written, in hope that the simple act of writing, anything, each day will urge my bring to bring its inane thoughts to the forefront.

Dawn’s disgrace is ending.
I would give anything for a Sun that would rise and not stop,
for proof that everthing is not over,
for the last leaf to fall.

What’s unwritten is that beauty relies on ending, as much as on beginnings. It relies on sorrow as much as joy, pain as much as health – and this is true of all things. There is no blue without red, and rainbows are not beautiful because of their uniformity. And yet, each day our society tries to remove another color, to make us uniform, to fight against that which they are not, because they are good and so everything else must be bad, because they are right and so everything else must be wrong.

Maybe the biggest problem is that, in large part, we live in a world where we can’t agree to disagree.

One reply on “The last leaf”

I found the last sentence of this post to be the most poignant for me. It was the one that most struck home. I have argument after argument with a friend of mine because he can not agree that sometimes we *must* disagree. He is convinced that he can convince me that his opinion is the right one, that his way is the right way. Why can’t we just appreciate our differences of opinion and learn from them? It makes me sad and tired.

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