The Poignant Meaning of Life

From:  After My Father’s Stroke, JAMA 9/24/03 Poetry & Medicine
By: Gwendolyn Jensen, Cambridge, Mass

“………….Once I saw a bird,

           Egg wet, unfeathered, its fall to hot macadam

           All of flight that it would know.  I knelt

           And heard its mewing cheep, no thought of what

           It might become, only that it wished to live ………..” 

Life is such a joyful gift. Play on!

1 Comment

  1. you are macabre. How could you like this poem? Birdlet died – burned up and never to experience anything…woo-hoo! NOT. Your are such a goose.


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