Ya know, you never realize exactly how limited blog editors are until you try and get them to display some kind of poetic formatting. Forget about handy things like, you know, adjustable line spacing, who needs that. Oh, and preserving tab spaces? Forget about it.... P.S. Don't ever try and adjust your template, it's a nightmare.
Believe me, it's not worth it...
Have my worst challenges really lead to my greatest successes? Although that's a maxim that has been broadcast to me my entire life, making me naturally distrustful of it, I think it's an idea I really believe. There's something for me to learn from and strengthen myself against in every barricade. Even those who suffer worst, born starving in war-torn countries with little hope of escape, seem to grow in meekness and gratitude for what they have. Today, on pioneer day, I find myself envying my (non-biological) ancestors. Although they suffered horribly, enduring the loss of loved ones and limbs, they grew so strong in their obedience and will power. They've left a legacy we honor even 200 years later.
The evidence is undeniable to me. Suffering benefits me, no matter how uncomfortable. I've only to set my shoulder against the boulder, and push.
***
Nightingales
Beautiful must be the mountains whence ye come,
And bright in the fruitful valleys the streams, wherefrom
Ye learn your song:
Where are those starry woods? O might I wander there,
Among the flowers, which in that heavenly air
Bloom the year long!
Nay, barren are those mountains and spent the streams:
Our song is the voice of desire, that haunts our dreams,
A throe of the heart,
Whose pining visions dim, forbidden hopes profound,
No dying cadence nor long sigh can sound,
For all our art.
Alone, aloud in the raptured ear of men
We pour our dark nocturnal secret; and then,
As night is withdrawn
From these sweet-springing meads and bursting boughs of May,
Dream, while the innumerable choir of day
Welcome the dawn.
-Robert Bridges
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