A little candle will eventually burn itself out, just like a flaming torch does. The little candle will give out stirrings of romance for a swooning couple. The flaming touch will give forth light to a traveller rushing home. Either way, the two light sources won’t burn in vain. Here, we chose our own way to burn.
Welcome. Burn along with us.
We make it our business to be disturbed by things bigger than ourselves. We take sides on causes. We measure our strength without fear of antagonizing our weaknesses. Like water which always has a perfect memory-forever rushing to the sea-we rush to the call of humanity. We may not do much. But at least we try to be a rainbow in someone’s dark sky. We are a drum major for men.
Karibu.Drum along with us.
In the wasteland that is the modern world, we gather the songs that are about to die from the darkness and place them in the sun. We gather seeds of virtue and spread them into the wind, hoping they will find fecund soils to flourish in.
When we look at the sun, we endeavor to see the light forever. When we hear the wind rustle in the leaves, we endeavor to feel it between our fingers. We seek for a rhyme in dreamless sleep. We seek for reason in starless nights.
Uka.Reason along with us.
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