HAPPY BIRTHDAY LUCIEN REYES!
Children of the world.
Future flowers, now seeds.
Some hand-raised, nourished in the love-enriched ground.
Others tossed carelessly on the coldest concrete,
struggling beneath Darwin’s dispassionate sunlight.
Each unique, snowflake-individualized.
And all the same.
Our race. The human race.
One color—many shades.
Treasures to some, toys to others.
They will reach the stars and stalk the shadows.
What children are, more than anything else, is this:
another chance for our flawed species.
Another chance to get it right.
From Andrew Vachss' “ANOTHER CHANCE TO GET IT RIGHT”
Couple of hours ago, before Thursday slipped into Friday, I got a text that baby Lucien was born. Happy birthday kid!
Last December, baby Roj came into this world just in time to get some Christmas gift.
And so we get several more chances to do the right thing.
God bless the kids.
Children of the world.
Future flowers, now seeds.
Some hand-raised, nourished in the love-enriched ground.
Others tossed carelessly on the coldest concrete,
struggling beneath Darwin’s dispassionate sunlight.
Each unique, snowflake-individualized.
And all the same.
Our race. The human race.
One color—many shades.
Treasures to some, toys to others.
They will reach the stars and stalk the shadows.
What children are, more than anything else, is this:
another chance for our flawed species.
Another chance to get it right.
From Andrew Vachss' “ANOTHER CHANCE TO GET IT RIGHT”
Couple of hours ago, before Thursday slipped into Friday, I got a text that baby Lucien was born. Happy birthday kid!
Last December, baby Roj came into this world just in time to get some Christmas gift.
And so we get several more chances to do the right thing.
God bless the kids.
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