Do not resent your pain.
Do not resent the loss
before the gain.
Do not resent the dark.
Do not resent the night
before the day.

Do not resent the cold.
Do not resent the tears
when you grow old.
Do not resent the fools.
Do not resent the young
with hearts so bold.

There’s a cloud that falls on the mountain.
There’s a mist that rises off the desert.
There’s a cabin under the stars.
There’s springs, and a secret fountain.

“…he ran the whole marathon. He ran — ya know, the whole thing. So towards the end, he finally gets a lead on the last guy, and he’s, say, a couple minutes ahead of him. So, first place. He stumbles around the last corner, limps up to the finish line, and stops.”

“So he won, right?”

“No, he stopped before the finish line. Just a foot or two before it, dripping sweat. Man, the crowd was confused. They started chanting, ‘cross-the-line! cross-the-line!’ but he just stood there.”

“…and?”

“Well, pretty soon the crowd died down. He catches his breath, stands up straight, walks off into the grass and lies down. Real comfortable like — his hands behind his head, feet crossed, looking up at the sky.”

“Did he say anything? Or do anything else?”

“Nope. That’s it… that’s the story.”

“That’s the worst god-damned story I’ve ever heard.”

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