All Saints Day
This week's weather has wrecked havoc on areas of the US
Eastern coast.The photos of the devastation
are heart breakingingly poignant and leave
one speechless. I found this poem
by Russian poet, Anna Akhmatova
that speaks for how I am feeling:
Everything is plundered, betrayed, soiled,
Death's great black wing scrapes the air,
Misery knows to the bone,
Why then do we not despair?
By day the surrounding woods.....
at night the deep transparent skies
glitter with new galaxies.
And the miraculous comes so close
to the ruined, dirty houses....
something not known to anyone at all,
but wild in our breasts for centuries.
Anna Akhmatova
2 comments:
Such sad news for so many. The poem is apt.
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