“The plain was grassy, wild and bare; wide, wild and open to the air which had built up everywhere an under-roof of doleful gray. With an inner voice the river ran, adown it floated a dying swan and loudly did lament. It was the middle of the day. Ever the weary wind went on and took the reed-tops as it went”, by Alfred Lord Tennyson.
He is a success who prospered, laughed often and loved much
Who gained the respect of intelligent men and such
Who earned the devotion of animals without a single touch
Who accomplished his tasks and filled his niche
Who leaves the universe better than he found it
Whether by a pure poem, an educated soul or an improved elixir
Who never lacked appreciation of nature’s beauty or failed to express it
Who looked for the charity in others and gave the utmost he had ever
A good man prolongs his precious life
As he knows the superior wisdom about the hereafter
Is that it only comes one day at a time
As a teacher he wants to awaken expectations
And is conscious of the responsibility he bears
Towards his pupil who affectionately awaits
Or to an unfinished work; he understands
The question for his reality in this earth: The “why”
And will be able to endure almost any “how”
He can survive just about anything, except death
Yet how does he know if he genuinely loves to live as an aftermath?
To exist defeated and inglorious is to dwindle daily
And a person starts suffocating when he stops being dreamy
The goal should not be to prevail eternally
But to create something that will shine everlastingly
We must hold fast to our hopes because if they go
Life will turn into a barren field, frozen with snow
Unmaking what spiritual poets know
When we pass away, therein vanishes our foremost innocent kiss
The fragile blossom that opened in our first flurry we cannot miss
The final whiteout is not a simple occurrence
It is magical, beautifies everything it covers like kindness
The world seems composed of an arc-shaped spectrum, uniform and colorless
A rainbow that is lonely yet self-sufficient, clad with radiance
If people we care for are untimely stolen from us
Never cease loving them, and they will live on forever with brilliance
Our greatest loss is what fades deep down inside us
While life chuckles, life cries, it looks different through everyone’s eyes
Do not be afraid to perish; achieve what no other man can with a sincere smile
Think you are learning how to breathe while discovering wisely how to expire
Adagio in D minor, Johann Sebastian Bach.
December 24, 2009 at 1:51 am
-wow-wow-wow-. . . -the poem is both beautiful and sad-it touches the soul and strengthens the spirit-its like the comforter of those lost in grief and a map to direct them and those not in it to a better view of dead-it gives one weak the power to stand and live-the defeated, the will to stand and win-the dead, a chance to be remembered even in dark times-