On My Mind...

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.

-Dylan Thomas, 1914 - 1953

A good family friend who has been battling an aggressive bone cancer for four years now is in the hospital and likely dying. As I have sat at my computer contemplating this horrible reality for the last hour, this poem popped into my mind. I do not know if it is this faithful, gentle, wonderful man's time to gently embrace the dying of the light. Perhaps it is. But this I know, for the last four years he has raged, raged against the dying of the light. I've never seen anybody fight so hard and display so much faith against such terrible odds. He has turned his face completely to God at a time when most of us would turn away and curse Him. He has also embraced every possible scientific avenue, tested and experimental, and has probably added significantly to the body of research that will someday hopefully eradicate this horrible disease.

Rage.

Rage against the dying of the light.