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A poem about the importance of an individual life. |
| Yesterday Death paid a visit to my neighborhood. He came in the dead of night. Cancer, a favored minion, on the sly prepared his way so that Death with ease might claim another victim without a fight. I stood this morning before the blighted house and pondered how it simply doesn’t seem right that one’s death might be significant to spouse, family, friends...but is no importance to the world at large. Such is Mankind’s lot in life – ‘tho he may proclaim his worth and prance around in self-importance, his death matters not. I bent down and plucked a blade of grass. Did it matter to the lawn? When the lions kill one gnu from the herd as it thunders past, does not the herd thrive and prosper still? As footprints left upon the sandy shore are soon erased by the tide, an individual life’s significance is swept away by billions more. So why is Man’s belief in individual worth perpetual? Please check out my ten books: http://www.amazon.com/Jr.-Harry-E.-Gilleland/e/B004SVLY02/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0 |