Walter Cronkite has left this earth. What made him unique was his passion for the truth no matter how difficult or how pressured he was by censorship. He felt an immense responsibility toward his audience. He was authentic, he was someone who spoke your language - someone you could trust. He left an incredible legacy and imprint on all of us. His emotional reporting of the Kennedy assassination through heartfelt tears, his glee and encouragement for the Appolo astronauts flight to the Moon, the debacle of the Vietnam war and a America forever changed.
The world is a different place without this statesman of the truth. As a celebration of Walter's goodness, his authenticity, his wisdom and heartfelt connection to the telling of the human condition, I wanted to share this lovely Ode from Walt Whitman:,
Song of Myself, Part 1
I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loaf and invite my soul,
I lean and loaf at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, formed from this soil, this air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the same,
I, now thirty seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
Creeds and schools in abeyance,
Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten,
I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard,
Nature without check with original energy.
Walt Whitman was a poet of great standing. His book, Leaves of Grass, published in 1876, is full of inspirational messages for poets everywhere.
Song of Myself, a poem with over 50 parts, is a deep "song" of Whitman, and aptly portrays him as he believed himself to be.
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