Burden

When last I stood by my own strength
And cursed fate for bringing me to the utmost need,
When all my striving turned to naught
Beneath the midnight sky,
When weariness permeated every fiber of me,
Leaving me with aimless thought,
Worthless, rambling thought,
When all my world shrunk around me,
Squeezing the substance of each moment
Until it burst under the pressure,

Then did I at last find strength
From behind the furthest star in the sky,
Yet closer than my skin.
Then did I give up my own strength
And Atlas' burden with it.
Then I set the world down for a moment,
Letting its stresses evaporate from my mind
With the dew in the bright morning.
Then I said, "I can't . . .
I can't carry this alone," and sighed.

Then, my time of rest done,
I picked up the world once more;
But this time, there was a hand next to mine,
And as I lifted I found that the burden was much reduced.
The hand took the brunt of the weight of the load,
And I, amazed, remembered then an old, old saying:
"For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."