A Golden Theme Poem by Ravi Panamanna

Like a gathering wind,
He ran to eternity and beyond.
By lending grace and purpose to life
He ran unto our hearts and beyond.

It was a marathon of hope,
Of the lasting vision of a man –
For better fountains of life,
For endless meads, for all undawned dawns.

From the soft winds of Winnipeg
To the currents of life,
The price was his heart and blood,
The prize was his relentless spirit.

Before it was blossom
The flower wane to wither.
Before it was dawn
The waking life into eternal silence fell.

In the beginning
His dream was the Moscow Olympics.
But at the end
His bounderies had matchless limits.

From the dreams of track and field,
He finally reached a surgeon’s table.
From the hopes of winning a gold medal
It was a voyage unto himself and humanity.

It was the beginning of a disaster,
It was the end of lush meads.
It was the end of an illustrious career,
It was the last note of a beautiful song.

Between the surgeon’s table
And the wake of dawns,
Cancer took its toll
And sunk him in the waters of Jibralter.

Those were the endless nights,
The beginning of a long summer.
Between despair and visions beyond,
Dick Harrem inspired his glimmering world.

With a handicapped leg,
Dick had won the city marathon.
The living message of Dick was clear-
That the limit of man was the endless sky.

And from the surgeon’s table, Terrance Fox,
Woke up with a purposeful dream.
Before the light was gone, the curtains drawn,
He forced the gales for a close call.

Eight thousand kilometer marathon was his plan,
A dollar each of a Canadian was his modest dream.
With ten lac dollars in heart and enough steel nerves,
His was a big hope for the suffering mankind.

And on April 12, Nineteen Eighty,
He opened the gates of heaven unto us.
From St. Jones, firing all cylinders
He made a step closer to his vision.

And with a stilt leg he crossed umpteen hamlets,
He wafted as a song of the open road.
Catching up with the birds and flying clouds,
He writ his tale upon the waiting mankind.

Every being hath a purpose here on earth,
Till then he stoppeth not his breath.
The mystery of life goes beyond all human endeavour,
The curtain is finally drawn only after our purpose.

From inn to inn, city to city,
He carried the living flame aloft.
With a cross upon the shoulders, a message unto mankind,
He flew all along like a golden wave.

And at the break of 1st of September,
Beyond the Five thousndth mark away from St. Jones,
He fell on the road, called it a day,
Leaving behind laps of glory against his name.

And amongst us he lived for ten more months,
And finally left unmeasured peaks behind him.
Lending dales of life to all future generations,
The bird disappeared unto the endless blues.

In place of ten lacs
The Marathon of Hope generated many folds.
And the dawn of Terry Fox Foundation was on the horizon –
This man had levelled his dreams and gone far beyond.

Man can be destroyed but never defeated –
Was his life and message to one and all.
And lighting a golden flame,
He blest mankind with a golden theme.