Some grim foes seem colossal, gigantic
We dwindle into insignificance
Faced with them, few can remain romantic
Against such monsters, hope has little chance
And yet, in a titan’s inky shadow
Some eyes have dark enough to see a light
Sufficient to allow their hearts to slow
Enough to read the details of the fight
Afresh, and find within their nuances
Not paralysis, but a spur to act
With sharp precision, and faith in chances
That are quite real, and not merely abstract
Some means of triumph are not found, but made
When things seem darkest, come to your own aid
About the Creator
D. J. Reddall
I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
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