A message from Walt Whitman

I have heard what the talkers were talking, the talk of the beginning and the end
But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.

There was never any more inception than there is now,
Nor any more youth or age than there is now,
And will never be any more perfection than there is now,
Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now.

Urge and urge and urge,
Always the procreant urge of the world.
. . .
Always a knit of identity, always distinction, always a breed of life.To elaborate is no avail, learn’d and unlearn’d feel that it is so.
. . .
Stout as a horse, affectionate, haughty, electrical,

I and this mystery here we stand.

(Song of Myself)

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