In Memory Of Christopher Reeve - Poem by Bill Grace
There is always so much happening
Driven to be seen
Driven to be in the eye of the hurricane
Driven to be driven or seemingly secure
TO STOP FOR THREE OR FOUR HOURS SEEMS IMPOSSIBLE:
To see the magic in the most common things,
To think forty years ahead for others,
To reflect on realities beyond the yes or no of politics,
To know that sacrifice is truly noble
And that there is a final test for time
A thing called love beyond capacity for action
or even comprehension.
No, we must find this time
And then turn it on itself with thanks or perish.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You