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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required 7. On The Road Back Serious illness instructs its victims In the miracle of the normal life. Spend time starting over on things you never think of, And a new appreciation dawns For the marvel of Being-in-the-World. Crisis finally ended, they move me down So I may eat like a human again and gain the strength To walk geriatrically about the ward Creepingly, yet exulting in my newfound freedom From the Sargasso Sea of lines that bound me for so long. Soon they would send me home To where Gulliver's god asserts his primacy. There is in every life that question never asked aloud, Yet waits for its whisper in misfortune's ear: Why go on? Why the trouble of going on When we know all things, after all, Make an end of themselves? What purpose served when Summer's light gives way again To Winter's dark, itself to give way once more Before the furious blooms of Spring, This cycling of changes running blindly 'round 'Til all together, when at last we're called away from being Will soon enough leave not even faint memory That ever we, or they, had been? Why go on, When all are orphaned in the end, When in due time Time itself will cease to march When even God may wonder To what end He set it all in motion for, Leaving only an original Mystery To occupy Forever? Yet still all things contrive to persevere, especially ourselves, Despite our cursed knowledge of Finality, Knowing that none shall escape eclipsion, But sensing that the weight Of whatever we have made of our lives Will add its dram of meaning When the sum of it all is balanced together In the great equation of existence. We go on for the honor of going on, Because there is no road back And the bridges burn themselves behind us as we go. The going is its own meaning Because all moments matter to those they happen to, Are defined by those they happen to - And in the happening Each soul makes its bright flash in the infinite dark, Illumines itself in silent declaration That it once was, and dared to be, Despite the vanishing that follows. When all is said and over, It's perhaps best we measure ourselves Against the blazing stars and wheeling galaxies To find that we come out the larger Than they in all their magnificence, In our tiny, burning brilliance.
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