The Fiery Fall
Flow, flow, I say!
Let the water rush!
Let it gush!
Trash the harsh stones.
Shape them like they are your own.
Surge though the crevasses.
Nudge the passes.
Purge the furrow.
Run like there is no tomorrow.
Today is your day.
Leave the fears at bay.
Leap over the horizon.
Like a soul reborn.
Have you wandered in the wilderness, the sagebrush desolation,
The bunch-grass levels where the cattle graze?
Have you whistled bits of rag-time at the end of all creation,
And learned to know the desert’s little ways?
Have you camped upon the foothills, have you galloped o’er the ranges,
Have you roamed the arid sun-lands through and through?
Have you chummed up with the mesa? Do you know its moods and changes?
Then listen to the Wild — it’s calling you.
– An except from the poem The Call Of The Wild – Poem by Robert William
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….
An excerpt from the poem – Do not go gentle into that good night by Dylan Thomas