Poems and insights - Oct 06

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 the 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.

By Dylan Thomas



If you peer into a bottomless well

Is it empty

Or does the water merge with the darkness?



If you hold smoke that curls through your fingers

Does it disappear

Or merely elude your grasp?



If you are in pursuit of God

Does she move so slow that you rush past

Or escape because she moves so fast?



If you see a glimpse have you seen enough?

If you see darkness is it shadow or absence?

If you've sipped should your thirst be quenched?

If you've tasted should your appetite be met?



If you stop is it really rest...?

By Paul Cracknell