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How Do You Measure the Value of a Life (a poem)

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  • #188243
    Lucas
    Participant

    How do you measure the value of a life? Do you measure it on the lives it saved, the lives it gave, or the lives that have yet to be?

    Do you measure the value of a life in inches or in miles, or the joy that it has yet to see?

    Do you measure the value of a life in grains of sand or in grains of wisdom, or the pain that causes one to drop on one knee?

    Perhaps the value of a life cannot be measured, and we are surrounded by the tempest of the sea.

    The tempest of the soul that is longing and still has yet to be.

    Not sure if this is any good, but I would like some feedback if possible.

     

    #188277
    Anonymous
    Guest

    Dear Lucas

    I like your poem, thank you for sharing it. A couple of my thoughts as I re-read it:

    “Do you measure (the value of life) on the lives it saved?” Live your own life first, live the best life available for you first, then save others’.

    “Do you measure the value of life in inches or in miles”- neither. Do not measure life. Live it. This is what other animals do, living the lives available for them, paying attention. Not measuring the distance they travel, but being engaged in the travel itself.

    anita

    #188299
    Peter
    Participant

    I like the line ‘Perhaps the value of a life cannot be measured, and we are surrounded by the tempest of the sea.’

    I think there is truth in that – We sense a something within the tempest, a something at the tip of the tongue that if we could just… name it… we might just… but when we do name it, its lost.  There is order in chaos, which seems a contradiction but isn’t.

    Your poem reminded me of a poem by Rick Cain

    The ancient of Man ponders his curiosity. Questions arise as he wonders of his own significance… how time moves as sands of an hour glass, not to be grasped, but reckoned with by the moment. The focus of a single crystal houses hope, love, and the rainbow multitude of Life’s involvement. We see these things in passing we feel them as now. The Master of these sands is he who loves each crystal. – Rick Cain

    • This reply was modified 6 years, 3 months ago by Peter.
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