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sunshinemiss -> RE: BOUNTY'S coffee shop (7/11/2009 6:45:25 AM)
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You know this week was the birthday of Elisabeth Kubler Ross.
I'm sharing a poem with you (cause that's what I do).
My grandfather and I used to do this. I'd send him a poem, and then we'd talk on the phone about it maybe a week later. *Gosh I miss him* I let the anniversary of his death go unnoticed this year because it was also father's day. But now I kind of would like to share this poem. It was the last one we did together. Rather appropriate too.
So here it is... Dylan Thomas
Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
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 that 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.
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