Like a man who is maimed
And crippled, and who finds himself on the edge of a cliff,
Alone, we, the human race, in great pain,
Want to die. But we can avoid death still,
At least for a time, by being the man on the cliff,
And instead of looking down, looking to the sky
And then the horizon. We can muster what strength we have left,
And carry on, despite the pain, despite the weakness,
And we can remember what our earliest forebears thought:
That there are powers which we cannot perceive
That want us to live on. The enemy is not the pain,
Not the weakness, but our lack of faith.
There are reachable destinations,
Even if eternity is beyond our reach.
Turn away from the cliff.
Turn away from despair.
There is a reason to keep going.
When you find it, share it,
Even if that means forsaking every pleasure on Earth.
