Another poem given to me by a very special friend…
Why must I be hurt?
Suffering and despair
Cowardice and cruelty,
Envy and injustice,
All of these hurt.
Grief and terror,
Loneliness and betrayal
And the agony of loss or death—
All these things hurt.
Why? Why must life hurt?
Why must those who love generously,
Live honorably, feel deeply
All that is good—and beautiful
Be so hurtful,
While selfish creatures
Go unscathed?
That is why—
Because they can feel
HURT IS THE PRICE TO PAY FOR FEELING
Pain is not accident,
Nor punishment, nor mockery
By some savage god.
Pain is part of growth.
The more we grow—the more we feel,
The more we feel—the more we suffer,
For if we are able to feel beauty,
We must also feel the lack of it—
Those who glimpse heaven
Are bound to sight hell.
To have felt deeply is worth
Anything it cost.
To have felt Love and honor,
Courage and ecstasy
Is worth—any price.
And so—since hurt is the price
Of Larger living, I will not
Hate pain, nor try to escape it.
Instead I will try to meet it
Bravely, bear it proudly:
Not as a cross or a misfortune, but an
Opportunity, a privilege, a challenge—
To the God that gropes within me.
— Elisie Robinson