The Call of Life

It was past twilight. Birds and beasts had resorted to their homes, and Silence, with his herald, Darkness, had entered the forest. All signs of activity had ceased. But the little brook went on murmuring her love chants to the image in the deserted temple by which she flowed. Her ripple seemed to mock the world for its gloom and quiet when faced with night. The whole world had gone to rest, and death-like silence and inactivity reigned, but the brook flowed on, proclaiming to a deaf world the value of life.

“Live, live, live,–”, she seemed to chant. “You men, why do you long for death so as to escape from this life? Live! Live, to escape from death–from the death of the fire in your soul which can enkindle love among mankind, from the death of the power in your arms which can free the poor from the clutches of need and lead the blind from the labyrinth of Ignorance into the vale of Knowledge.

“Life is the one thing that matters–it is everything. The wise, the foolish, the weak–everyone of them has to face death. But only the courageous at heart can face Life and live–live, not with the breath of the body, but with the very breath of the soul. Only the brave man’s heart-strings can twang in unison with the music that is the Call of Life. Even when racked with pain he does not welcome death, for to him pain is something which can be actively fought against, for then he is really alive. The value of a thing is rarely realised until it is about to be lost, so that the intensity of pain is but an emblem of the intensity of the value of Life. 

“So do not flee from the Call of Life. Love Life and live, live, live…”