do not go gentle into that good night

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 that 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.
-Dylan Thomas

I've been thinking about this poem a lot recently. Life isn't going to get easier and the world is going to be a more challenging place in many ways. "This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come." And that's not just true for the world at large, but for each of our individual lives. But we can't just give up and quit because we know the days ahead will be dark.

The thing is . . . day always follows night, and light always conquers darkness. The new beginning that comes after the end will be more glorious still than the first.

So do not go gentle. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.