Whitman and the Written

I was perusing a slim little design catalogue today and came across this quote by Walt Whitman which stuck with me all evening:
To me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle,
Every cubic inch of space is a miracle.

I recalled this passage again as I watched my daughter draw aimless strokes around a piece of paper, her eyes intently focused on the task at hand. I thought of the hour in which we’re living and I recognized briefly that this was the only hour, the most precious hour of our ridiculously short lives together. And then I felt the space around her, the breath she was taking and letting out, and I watched her sing a little song while drawing. These un-selfconscious songs are composed of words she knows but doesn’t necessarily understand and they feel like little chunks of the universe falling back on me when sung. I think the words were something like this: “Daddy’s older, he’s nine, he’s older.”

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