My radical acts are very few and far between these days: if it's not a habit, like recycling, I don't have the time to devote to it. There is a reason that activists are mostly young, that angry energy of youth can be well suited to tilting at windmills. I think about the courage that it takes to continue to strive for what one believes is right, as one grows older as I grow older. But reading these lines, I wonder what the writer's life is like, what was happening when she wrote these lines, what has happened to her since she wrote them. The tune to this piece is a little too hymn-like for my liking, in a predictable hymn way. ![]() Typing this text out makes me like it more than singing it did. ![]() If they ask what I did best, tell them I said, 'Yes' to love. Just as long as my heart beats, I must answer, 'Yes' to love ĭisappointment pierced me through, still I kept on loving you. If they ask what I did well, tell them I said, 'Yes' to truth. ![]() In my dream and in my dark, always: that elusive spark. Just as long as vision lasts, I must answer, 'Yes' to truth If they ask what I did well, tell them I said, 'Yes', to life Though with pain I made my way, still with hope I meet each day. Just as long as I have breath, I must answer, 'Yes' to life
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