Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Drawing Parallels


Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Dylan Thomas

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. 
I looked up this poem and reread it after reading "Matched" by Ally Condie. She mentions the poem in her novel about a dystopian society. I really like this poem. It speaks to the part of me that loves adventure and doing crazy stuff like Tough Mudders and skydiving. The part of me that isn't afraid of dying, just of dying poorly. I only get one chance to experience life on this rock, and I will not live in fear of what might happen.
(So, this was lost in my drafts for a few years. Better late than never!)