Those who suffer, succeed.
Not always!
There is many a slip betwixt the cup and the lip.
Life is strange even in a biblical sense,
It passes us by
As we pass it by
And sometimes we feel
That it is just in the passing That we catch honest moments
Of success and pleasure.
It is always the other who has
The best of everything,
Who waits in the shadows as a stranger,
As some god,
To tell you where you went wrong
Where you did not do enough
Pursuing you as a beast of prey
Stalking you in your dreams
Through anxieties of failure
Twisting your fantasies.
And in bewilderment You look for explanations
In religion and philosophy,
Turning to the Protestant work ethic
The power of reason,
The deeds of classical heroes,
The wisdom of the Upanishads, The logic of ascetic practice, The sweet talk of management gurus
And, at last, your own lack of effort.
You seek advice from books.
And amidst all these endeavors You suddenly realize
That you have grown old
Feeble in body and slow in mind, But for you there is no desinence,
You wish to rise once again
With Ulyssean resolve To strive, to seek, to find
And not to capitulate.
