The Task of Man

22 March 2024

Let us turn the page here, and let us ask
who we shall be, and know we have a say,
for time, though strong, is neither master nor enemy,
but friend. It's time we think, if we dare think at all,
and only time makes worthy those
who rise before its call. So let us turn
and rise and make a better life, that they may say
that here a few stood tall who were not daunted
by the task of man, who faced it with all courage
even as dark winds were blowing.

--

The poets are singing again, about how cultures blend
and one fades into another, across the sands of time,
which litter the desert of peoples, lost and forgotten,
yet ever new, like the rising sun. Does that sun parch
or does it vivify? Only time will tell, we know that well,
although we also know ourselves, and possibly only that.
But poets sing regardless, knowing that this too shall pass,
that all must pass, but most of all this ratiocentric
obsession with self, with reason, with power, which plagues
this hour with Man so magnified nothing else breaks through.

--

But what else is there? Only God? And Nature?
We, no longer children, will not take our fairy-tales,
but crave more solid food, the real meat of the matter.
But too bad for us, the stories are the meat,
and always were, and our mancenteredness is only
one more story. C'est la vie. Back to the task,
as ever, editing, revising, and then publishing the draft
that we've received as our inheritance. But let's make it
a good one, not a tragedy or farce, but one
with heroes in their prime and worthy deeds.