There's nothing quite as soothing as a soul at perfect peace,
With armor made of stubborn pride and reason used for grease.
But sometimes when we seek to sneak through spaces far too small,
We might just learn the hard way, that our back's against the wall.
It's here where we define ourselves as cowards or as kings,
And show the world if we can take the trials existence brings.
When stoic men go hide their face and act like mewling sheep,
Then we must conjure courage even though we must dig deep.
Surviving tribulations can invigorate and teach,
That nothing we can see can be completely out of reach.
Indulge your brilliant lunacy, ignore your limitations
For our own fear must not be let to halt our aspirations
Make every lap your final stretch, make every sprint your pace,
And you will win by many lengths this all-important race.
So one day when the cows above our drying bones do graze,
No rock unclimbed will we have left, nor trail we've yet to blaze.
- end -
A collaborative effort by Al Spiegel & Mike Rollo, July 2001
Technique: Alternating line pairs swapped by email. Title by Al.
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