All that can be cherished from this world,
All that makes life worth living,
Is that which is mined from its bowels through your own toil,
Fashioned from its clay by your own craft,
Fired in the kiln of your own heart.
That for which you bruised your hands and wearied your limbs,
For which you beat back the beast inside you,
For which you defied the entire world
The trophies that awaited you at the summit of your most grueling climb.
Oh, how precious, how resplendent a feast, how spectacular a monument,
The life forged with the tools of its own master!
T. Freeman
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