Tonight has been a rather hateful night, to the extent that I find it apt to remember that life is a true gift. With that in mind I remember a poem to which I am most fond of.
If I cannot forgive myself For all the blunders That I have made Over the years, Then how can I proceed? How can I ever Dream perfection-dreams? Move, I must, forward. Fly, I must, upward. Dive, I must, inward, To be once more What I truly am And shall forever remain.
Sri Chinmoy