What good did you do today? Did you whisper the sweetest word to a beggar with no fixed address? Did you give him bread in silence? Do you give hope to anyone? Did you wipe away an orphan's tears? And did you breathe strength into the sick? Did a friend stand by you again? And did anyone defend you with honour? Have you stroked a stray dog's head? What good did you do today? What good came to pass in you? Did you save a little hungry bird? That beloved man—did you hold him tenderly? Do you remember that you love him? And did you step past the carelessly discarded garbage on the ground? Did you bring good tidings? Did you send a smile to someone? What good did you do today?
# Questions What is this weight upon my chest that will not name itself? What is this silence that speaks louder than a thousand voices? I have walked through rooms full of light and found only shadows. I have held conversations with the living and heard only the dead. Tell me— why does the mirror show a stranger's face? Why do my own hands feel like borrowing? The morning comes with its bright questions, the evening leaves without answers. I have filled notebooks with words that dissolve like salt in water. What is the cost of this breathing? What is the price of this heartbeat? I ask the wind. The wind asks the trees. The trees ask the soil. The soil keeps its counsel. Perhaps the questions are all we have— these small rebellions against the dark, these cups we hold up to catch what cannot be held, what will not stay, what was never ours to begin with.
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