Sometimes I fight the sunshine of hope
Forgetting that having planted seeds of love
Watered with trickles of affection
(And occasionally weeded of poisons)
I need but wait for light and time
To bear fruit that feeds the world.

My life has no more meaning than a flower.
But oh, the meaning of a flower.

Batman can be interpreted either as a typical hero’s journey or a morality play about chronic underinvestment in Gotham’s mental health care system.

I am an ordinary beautiful being.
I am a mundane miracle of creation.
I am a common sacred life.
I am a run-of-the-mill child of God.

Reality is to choice
As wealth is to happiness,
As poverty is to despair,
As grief is to hopelessness,
As danger is to fear,
As struggle is to suffering,
As love is to love.

All lives end in defeat, if each day death is feared.
All lives end in a smile, if each day death is cheated.
Regardless, all lives end,
And death loves her rogues.

The Tacoma Narrows Bridge is not remembered
For the thousands of cars safely carried after it opened,
But for its collapse one fateful day.

Nor is it remembered that now there sits two bridges,
Strengthened in partnership,
Carrying millions with the learnings of that collapse.

Every unique snowflake
Is a snowflake.

Snowflakes melt.
Snow endures.

We do not grow more beautiful with age
Yet our age together grows more beautiful.

Life is not as extreme as I imagine,
And more extreme than I can possibly imagine.

What is the point?
This is the point.
There is no other point.
This point is enough.

There were other points.
There may be other points.
This is the point.
This point is enough.