To Bleed for the Impossible

Stress and college are two??????????????????????????????? words which seem to go together really well, unfortunately. I’ve been learning the truth of that in my life as of late, but I’ve also been learning that I’m not alone in this battle I wake up to every morning. There is One who goes with me, and that is what this poem is about.

It’s also about facing the impossible. In World Literature we just finished reading excerpts from both volumes of Don Quixote, which I feel like everyone should read if they get the chance. One of my favorite Broadway songs of all time, “The Impossible Dream”, is from the musical based off of that story (The Man of La Mancha). In class we discussed the controversy over whether or not the hero in this classical tale is really mad. He seems to be, it’s true, but there is a very interesting section in volume two when he attempts to explain to another character that he is actually quite sane. He discusses how we live in a cowardly world in which courage often looks like rashness. Could it be that those of us who aspire to change the world must be extreme in one way or another in order to pull the world along with us? A rash person has a better chance of discovering what courage is than does a cowardly one. As Don Quixote puts it: “It is better to lose by a card too many than a card too few.”

As someone who has chosen an “impractical” major (Professional Writing), I resonate with this. Sometimes people hear about my dream of being a novelist and give me a look which clearly says “but your real job is going to be…” No, being a writer will be my real job. I believe that’s what I’ve been called to. No matter how impossible it seems. The closer that I come to that mountain, the taller it looks. Fortunately, I know the One for whom nothing is impossible.

To bleed for the impossible,

And mourn what some can’t see.

To pretend I’m fully capable,

When I know I’ll never be.

To cry, and try, and struggle through,

Hold on when others fall,

Though I feel at any moment,

I’ll let go and lose it all.

I can’t do it.

I’m not strong enough.

I’m tired.

I’m dry.

I’m done.

It’s like I’m being forced to walk

A race that I can’t run.

They say I’m not alone,

That He’s still on my side,

And on the inside I know that,

But I’d really rather hide.

To be a Don Quixote,

A knight of a world long lost,

To take a stand and change their hearts,

No matter what the cost.

Words on paper one by one,

My hopes and all my fears,

Crying out every night

To the only One who hears.

The hand that pulls me up,

My strength when I am weak,

The one who captures all my tears,

The possible I seek.

 

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