To every man there is open; <br />A way, ways, and a way. <br />The high soul ascends the high way, <br />The low soul descends the low way, <br />In the midst, <br />On the misty flats, <br />The rest just drifts to and fro. <br />But to every man there is open, <br />A high way, and a low, <br />And each man himself must decide, <br />The way his soul shall go. <br />I don't cry for precious moments passed away, <br />I don't weep for a "Golden Age" of social reign; <br />Each night I burn <br />The records of the day, <br />And at sunrise, my soul is born again.<br /><br />James Curtis Hall Jr.<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/soul-rebirth/
