I’m realizing how much I believe that our attitudes are choices — and important ones. To be reverent about the world in which we live is a responsibility, I believe, for the gift we have been given.
I recognize however… and I haven’t found a way to acknowledge this in the poetry, that not everyone can do that. Not everyone’s neurons are firing cheerfully away. Many people work to get out of bed and continue their lives. Every day, a struggle. A woman wrote to remind me of this the other day… Struggling to understand the writer’s responsibility to widen my view. Am I the poet for this woman? should I be?
I’ll keep thinking about it. And I’ll work to keep trudging reverently toward Peace, if that’s not an oxymoron… Peace. Hard work. Awe. It’s all part of the puzzle.