I find my sanity in writing.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rage at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
--Dylan Thomas, Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
Written for his dying father, this villanelle conveys with intense earnest the way Thomas wants his father to fight against death. It's a pity that we don't all have that intense earnest to fight against death. It's a pity because... death comes in many disguises. There's the physical death, the most obvious of all, then there's the death of heart, soul, mind, emotion, morals, relationships, love, will to live. It comes loudly at times, clanking down the stairs for us, and at others, it silently ravages away at our insides.
Sometimes it's much easier to give up than to go on, and succumb to death. It seems the most natural and ...it's the easiest way. Once death happens, it's quiet. No more worries, no more heartache, no more struggle, no more drama.
But that's what death would have you believe. But we're called to life. We're called to something that totally goes against the tide of death and we're called to be fighters. So, even when it's hard, even when it doesn't seem like it's worth it, when everything in our hearts cry out to let go, we trudge on. Because it wasn't meant to be easy.
When it's easiest to let a friendship die, we fight on... because death is not an option.
We are called to life.
Old age should burn and rage at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
--Dylan Thomas, Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
Written for his dying father, this villanelle conveys with intense earnest the way Thomas wants his father to fight against death. It's a pity that we don't all have that intense earnest to fight against death. It's a pity because... death comes in many disguises. There's the physical death, the most obvious of all, then there's the death of heart, soul, mind, emotion, morals, relationships, love, will to live. It comes loudly at times, clanking down the stairs for us, and at others, it silently ravages away at our insides.
Sometimes it's much easier to give up than to go on, and succumb to death. It seems the most natural and ...it's the easiest way. Once death happens, it's quiet. No more worries, no more heartache, no more struggle, no more drama.
But that's what death would have you believe. But we're called to life. We're called to something that totally goes against the tide of death and we're called to be fighters. So, even when it's hard, even when it doesn't seem like it's worth it, when everything in our hearts cry out to let go, we trudge on. Because it wasn't meant to be easy.
When it's easiest to let a friendship die, we fight on... because death is not an option.
We are called to life.