Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring, those ripples build a current that can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance.
Robert Kennedy, South Africa 1966.

Friday, February 15, 2013

Charlotte Ashlock wrote this

One of my former students posted this on her blog today.  It made my heart sing.  She always does that. 

Today I opened a strand of DNA
And watched it unfurl in a ladder of limitless possibilities
And I wondered why such a miraculous cosmic orchestration of atoms and energy
Is used to knit together the molecules
Of one confused girl in Eeyore pajamas
Wondering whether she has eaten too much chocolate
And waiting for her man to call.
Seriously, it seems excessive,
Like using Bach as a composer for an orchestra of kazoos.
The almost unbelievably unbounded complexity of life, the energy of the stars, the mitochondria and the galaxies,
Swirling around me, creating me— and for what?
So I can burn my sandwich in the toaster oven?
So I can forget to charge my iPhone?
So I can mourn the cancellation of the pumpkin-flavored latte?
Is that why you created me, God
So I could do those things?
It seems like a lot of effort to very little purpose
Or maybe you created me so I could feel wistful
When I hear the panhandler who plays those haunting pipes
Beside the Montgomery street subway entrance,
Or maybe you created me to be there for certain very specific people
Who wouldn’t be the same without me,
Or maybe you imbued me with consciousness because
The universe needed to be noticed
And admired
Like a secret
Too good
Not to share

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