Suppose it is nothing but the hive: <br />That there are drones and workers <br />And queens, and nothing but storing honey -- <br />(Material things as well as culture and wisdom) -- <br />For the next generation, this generation never living, <br />Except as it swarms in the sun-light of youth, <br />Strengthening its wings on what has been gathered, <br />And tasting, on the way to the hive <br />From the clover field, the delicate spoil. <br />Suppose all this, and suppose the truth: <br />That the nature of man is greater <br />Than nature's need in the hive; <br />And you must bear the burden of life, <br />As well as the urge from your spirit's excess -- <br />Well, I say to live it out like a god <br />Sure of immortal life, though you are in doubt, <br />Is the way to live it. <br />If that doesn't make God proud of you, <br />Then God is nothing but gravitation, <br />Or sleep is the golden goal.<br /><br />Edgar Lee Masters<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/davis-matlock/
