The Great Wave of Joy

There is no doubt that life belongs to blossoming youth, and that a nation whose sorrows are not washed by the great waves of joy is a nation walking toward extinction.

For the first mark of life, and the last, is “life” — and life is something other than defeat, then disappointment, then humiliation, then weeping.

Yes, we are in aching need of joy and gladness. But how shall we rejoice when all around us are weeping? Our weeping has risen so high that its lament has drowned out all the voices of nature laughing around us without end.

For this sky, blue as the eyes of golden-haired children; this shining sun; the trees dew-fresh through a long count of many days; these starlings whistling in the tops of the pines; the birds singing over the grape trellises and the fig branches; the brook murmuring among the grasses; the waterfall crying out over the rocks; the waves of air whispering in the forests — all these sing the song of life, radiant and jubilant; and we alone weep.