Tuesday, June 12, 2012
It’s the season for miracles. One trip outside treats you to the twitter and caw of a hundred—maybe a thousand birds. Each of these birds was once the liquid in an egg. And then, by warmth alone, a heartbeat began. Who would have the audacity to suggest that there might be no hope when life, so unaccountably resisting all odds and reason, persists, insists on beginning this way?