The Enlightened Spirit

“QUIT! GIVE UP! YOU’RE BEATEN!”
They shout and plead,
There’s just too much against you now,
this time you can’t succeed.
And as I start to hang my head
in front of failure’s face,
My downward fall is broken
by the memory of a race.

And hope refills my weakened
will as I recall that scene.
For just the thought of that short
race rejuvenates my being.
A children’s race, young boys, young men;
now I remember well.
Excitement, sure, but also fear;
it wasn’t hard to tell.

They all lined up so full of hope. Each thought to win that race.
Or tie for first, or if not that, at least take second place.
And fathers watched from off the side, each cheering for his son.
And each boy hoped to show his dad that he would be the one.

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