The Tug-of-War
’Tis easier to leave life than to stay,
Yet O the leaving it is very hard;
To stay and see one’s loved-ones pass away,
With only heaven a far-off reward.
’Tis hard to live and suffer; yet to live
Obliges suffering on all of us,
And when one lives the life contemplative
He knows how well they are synonymous.
’Tis easier to leave, and yet to go
Entails a suffering all its very own,
No less than that which early on we know
As babes in infancy when we are born.
’Tis hard to stay, when one must live in pain,
In either case, to go or stay, brings sorrow--
Nor are there any words that can explain
Why the departure can’t be made “tomorrow,”
Tomorrow or tomorrow after that,
For leaving we would rather put away
Beyond all current frame of reference, at
A time less inhospitable than today.
Blesséd are they that have time for farewells,
To say their words, though words cannot express
The sadness bubbling up that no word quells,
The overflow of tears not any less.
’Tis hard to leave, and still ’tis hard to stay,
A tug-of-war maintained until the end,
Until the leaving gains the better sway
And those bereft have lost themselves a friend.