Evening friends, it’s been a bit since we’ve done a Typewriter Series poem on this here blog, so I figured tonight, the night before Halloween, you deserved a treat. This one is about what a happy accident it is to be a human being at all. To be this person, sitting here, speaking to you, when we could be ten billion other versions. What a thing, what a magic and strange thing, and this is a holiday of magic, after all.
In a single half blink, our entire lives could be different, could be torn asunder, could be elevated into some new plane, could be ended. A right turn instead of a left, a pause before opening the door, a different wish on a different candle, each day there are thirty-six dozen chances everything could be shifted, if only slightly. Who we are now, is a result of that insane happenstance, that wild cosmic serendipity. I am blown away by this, I am never not astounded by this.
At any rate, enjoy the poem I hope, and have the very best holiday this year. Whatever you are, be the best version of it. Above, the play button will take you directly to the audio of me both explaining (a little) and reading this poem. I hope you dig it.
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