ARISE IN THE FROSTY MORNING
Man’s life on this Earth–who has courage to face it? Yet there are the trees, against the dark sky, black bare trees, springing from the earth to flower, swaying in the wind, the low moan of the wind. Who could live without this grace? Is not one man by himself important and worth consideration? To me he is worth sacrificing the whole world for. The farmer returns to the soil he tended vanishing, becoming indistinguishable from that which he toiled. The sun rises and sets, it is day and night, it will go on like this for a long time. You get to think you are a part of it and your circumstances are related to the cosmos, but one day your little system will burn out and the day and night will rotate indifferently. Can this be?