A New Reply to Hamlet
“To be, or not to be?” asks Hamlet's soul,
a mind transfixed between the depths below
and life's thin, airy hold: this desperate role,
I still play; although, from despair I know
that meaning consists neither in wealth, pleasure,
nor youth, might, thought: not even in great power!
But in the feet of this poem's solemn measure,
the answer is found: 'tis life, by whose Flower
the gift of meaning is through your love's labor,
the purpose for which you were made and reborn.
In this fact, take heart and faint not nor waver;
but seize at last your life's prize unforlorn!
Though Hamlet ponders still the sleep of death,
I breathe the Flower's scent with life's every breath.
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