Jordan Peterson: After the Fall

The vessel is weak, but the power of his voice echoes into every corner of our culture

May the spirit of your words raise you too
from the valley of the shadow of the fall
that cliff whose crumbling edge will one day take us all
soon enough
when life has run its course
so in the meantime prime your thoughts
take aim,
discourse
light up the inquisitive mind
the city of the imagination
heaven's own distilled creation
whose traffic lights the skies
passes from the concrete
to the ineffable passage
from time to vision
from the fundamental question
To existential decision
that never dies
but immortal flies instead
To the whitewashed walls
that call us back
to the final day
on the final bed
when all that's left is clay
and our words that gave to us
of their precious time
anchoring us all too briefly
in moments that were
admit it
sublime.