Consider each moment when despair flees before a realization that all is well, despite one’s tragedies and the world’s, mortality, crime and hypocrisy, despite injustice, that it’s possible for all to feel even in the most impossible circumstances a faint benevolence passing and subtle. Suppose that others yet born will thrive in total disregard that we ever lived, and our small earth, smaller for its disputes, will also vanish, and even the limited frontier of tomorrow’s attention will ignore us not a block, field or a conversation away from where we live and die, that our greatness is simply that we can perceive. A stark picture surfaces: the universe, even if it cannot love back can be loved … and invisible to us, many others and the unborn may, even in crisis, so absurdly love, since for a few moments a wave destined to crash upon a beach of nothingness, rolled anyway, with beauty and power.


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