O Me! O Life!

O me! O life! of the questions of these recurring,

Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill'd with the

foolish,

Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish

than I, and who more faithless?)

Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the

struggle ever renew'd,

Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I

see around me,

Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me

intertwined,

The question, O me! so sad, recurring -- What good amid these,

O me, O life?

Answer

That you are here -- that life exists and identity,

That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.

- Walt Whitman, "O Me! O Life!" from Leaves of Grass (deathbed version).

Photo: A flower grows in the foreground of Sedona's red rocks. Sedona, AZ. 2010.