Fear and Triumph

Sometimes we long for comfort and ease,

For what is familiar and assures security,

But for every man who lives in this world,

Trials and dangers fashion our hard reality.

And when the soul thus contemplates,

The enormity of the world's sorrow and pain,

Which for every man, ruthlessly lies in wait,

All hope seems to stifle and suffocate.

That utter loneliness of each individual journey,

Rends the heart, both mine and all humanity-

Bound in common misery; for all meaning seems lost,

When you probe the depths of this great forlorn.

But if you have ever departed from the familiar,

And stood alone, before a forbidding unknown,

Borne that lonely fear and it's utter forlornness,

Which none can perceive, understand or soothe;

You'll know the most awful wonder of despair,

When much is lost, but a precious lot is gained;

That bittersweet moment of noble inspiration,

That thrills the heart, even while it is pained.

Just as the soul feels it's solitariness,

The mind is awakened to a higher plane-

And wondrous thoughts, wise and true,

Come one by one in a thrilling train.

Alone, amidst great suffering and fear,

The higher powers of a soul are aroused,

And one is conscious of a greater purpose,

Made dear by hope, courage and endurance.

All these that are divine, beautiful and deep,

Truer still than what we usually conceive,

Slumber in the quietness of heavy sleep,

Until stirred by the billows of solitude and grief.

And like lighthouses built proudly on shores,

They shine forth in splendor, strong and clear,

Sending their light across the vast seas,

Dispelling all darkness, peril and fear.

And the boundless sea of human woe,

It's frightening depth and gaping hollow,

Is charted only by the powers stirred within,

The soul, grown intimate with sorrow.

How awful, how cold, yet profound and brave,

Are the feelings which overwhelm this heart,

For in that poignant loneliness, the spirit rises, and-

Knowing itself to be free, flies in triumphant victory.