My Condolences to Our Friends South of the Border.

Do Not Go Gentle into that Good Night

by Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave 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.



As the world hears of the horrors that occur on a daily basis on some soil both near and far...as we awaken to the knowledge that our world is ill and diseased, and that what we once considered normal is no more... as we find ourselves looking harder and harder to find good in the people and the world that surround us...we wonder at times what our future holds for the possibility of peace and health...our personal and planetary peace and health....in our time. Are we approaching the end of our world as we knew it? Are we just to go softly into that good night?