Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
Footnote: The poem ‘Invictus’ was written in 1875 by William Ernest Henley, an English Poet, who had one of his legs amputated at the age of 17. The poem, which he wrote while healing from the amputation, is a testimony to his refusal to let his handicap disrupt his life. ‘Invictus’ is Latin for unconquered. Undefeated. It was the anthem used for the Invictus Games this year.
Although an underachiever in academic fields, Rose is a star in self development and a high minder of her own identity. She has made outstanding progress in finding for herself a sense of quiet achievement and direction – despite constant interruptions. She is also dedicated to researching sources of content other than incoming gratification – and acknowledgement from adult figures and male dominated establishments.
Rose exhibits no desire to possess parental powers of manipulation, authority or control, or the conservatism that comes with maturity – all of which would spoil the spontaneity she is free to leap into at any unguarded moment. Rose continues valiantly reaching towards newly found desires and pickings ripe for her own taste, mostly of the underground and obscure variety – which appear to mark her path to somewhere different to where others would like her to remain. Long Live Rose.
This little soldier left behind the security of her blanket to step forth into the reasonably unknown realm of repair. As she did, she cast a small wish into the universe that others might follow too…
(Reposted from 2011. Find her in Clunk & Jam book, 2019)
Rose was accustomed to more – but settle for one none-the-less.
Rose finds decision making difficult, so she limits her choices to alleviate herself from the tiresome chore of selection. The fact that this leaves her with very little, is of no great loss to Rose – she has (and is), enough. Long Live Rose.
Footnote: The virtue of being small is not one of popularity, but in a world that’s constantly promoting big, and potentially making us feel more insignificant, we have to champion a little harder for the small stuff. And with consumerism and mass media constantly knocking, our lives can potentially become a merry-go-round of decision making. Even if it’s the conscious decision not to buy into it. This Rose seems aware of the trappings of ‘wanting more’ yet holds firmly onto her single cone. She settles for less and feels so much more for it.
