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Solomon Machardson

On the seashore of this world,
Under the cloudy sky overhead,
We work and laugh, and sing and dance,
Like children who play with shells.

We know not how to cast our eyes
And explore the death-dealing waves
And the roaming tempest
Of conflicting emotion in us.

Has anyone ever told you
The source of the wisdom of Aesop,
Or the knowledge of Einstein,
Or the writing of Shakespeare?

The source was their discovery
Of the Fairyland in them
That caused the shrill talents in them
To explode and rise to the sky,
Leaving tracks of their achievements
To traverse the earth.

The Fairyland is in us too
Waiting to be discovered
By each individual.

When you stumble upon it:
Itís the secret of why you were born!
At its sight, the die is cast.

It becomes your guiding star,
In the dark days of despair
And your campus, in the light of hope.

It will be the pair of wings,
That transport your work
To the verge of idealism.

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