Tuesday, September 21, 2010


william ernest henley penned these words 135 years ago, and they have since traveled the globe and been memorialized by book and film. they speak of an innate determination not to be less than what is possible.
today I post this poem with a nod to nelson mandela, to lynn cleland, to dave collins, to frank sutera, and to all of those in my life who refuse to be less than everything they are meant to be.
from one who constantly reminds herself to do the same, carry on, be well, and never let go of your dreams.

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

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