What if, like the bees, the work we do —
Whatever it may be
That was given us to accomplish —
Is part of some larger pulse of fruition
That we, here, are too small to understand;
What if, like the butterfly,
The flap of whose wings
Spins a tornado into motion
On the other side of the world,
The choices we make, to do or not do,
Have repercussions we could never begin
To comprehend in the larger course of history?
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