Toubib Or Not To Be

It must be strange for you to hear what I have to say when you could easily step on me and continue walking without even once looking down. “ Did the tree even exist if no one was there to hear its falling, ” they say, but the tree is always there. A tree needs no attention to be noticed, for she always stands high and mighty, basking in sunlight before scattering those same rays through her branches to fall upon us, the measly creatures on the ground like blessings she no longer cares to claim. They should have rather made that saying about us: does a pebble even exist if the sound of it tapping against your shoe isn’t heard? But alas, pebbles went unnoticed even by old folk as they gathered acorns, feathers, seashells, and roots to weave them in parables stitched into truths. But no one bent down for a pebble to claim. We are, after all, too modest for myth, too unpolished for fame, too honest to weaponize into wisdom or blame. And perhaps that is all there is to say about my kind...