before the journey

what we have done is less than we could do
the way to overcome is never short
but how we do it when we find our port
is not the thing that's easiest to view

in all the ways that we account as sport
do not the marks of victory deny
for what from this perspective we descry
may change appearance once we have it caught

when from the hands of fate the truth we pry
what does it matter if we then forget
all these affairs which led us to regret
with sun's appearance we reject the lie

we know reality in hard ice is set
that can be melted and again refrozen
if we refuse each time to take the chosen
still every deadline will at last be met

winter will end and then the final frozen
shards will to liquid and to summer turn
the time will come when all of us may earn
the prize of patience and the drink ambrosian

and yet with inner heat we will in winter burn
the last of our old selves to cleanse the new
all of our hopes we believe will come through
and for that consummation we now yearn