One of our readers, Horus Hardtke, sent us this beautiful poem with this note.—Chuck Chakrapani, Editor. 

Since I have been in recovery from several surgeries, Marcus Aurelius and the teachings of Stoics such as yourselves, I believe, have been essential to my recovery--to strive for virtue in this transitory period. And they have been especially influential in my work. So, I thought I'd share this recent composition of mine to show your efforts are still bearing fruit; I hope you enjoy it. 

 

On what earth? From what stone?
Lies the king, that makes his throne?
Blessed be that slumber deep,
To grace that ground his soul to keep.

What perfect locks and visage be
—Eternal gaze that frightens me,
And blessed be his pinfold, too
That guards me there, lest breath renew.

… But cold on that marble face evermore to rest.
No battles born by you, oh king, nor fire in your breast,
Yet will your name forever be? ‘This shrine shall stand the test!’

Wind whip! Thunder rumble!
Lightning cleave, and cobble crumble!
All that’s left to Time is clay,
From whence we come and quick decay,
And all that’s left of you, Your Grace,
Is nigh from thought and space erased.

So toil for love till death at last,
Then care na’more; “this, too, shall pass.” 

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