Today, I will grow more grass,
though I still don’t understand it,
but that’s a thrill for me to say
I don’t know.
Let’s play a game of guessing
and say the outrageous ideas aloud.
Maybe today, we’ll crack the code
together.
Inspired by Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself, 6 [A child said, What is the grass?] and this analysis of poetry in general by Isaac Kolding, from which I learned that grass was another name for poetry. I seem to be riffing on the idea of ‘I don’t know’ often these days.
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
1994ever 