It’s odd, isn’t it? People die every day and the world goes on like nothing happened.
But when it’s a person you love, you think everyone should stop and take notice.
That they ought to cry and light candles and tell you that you’re not alone.
But when it’s a person you love, you think everyone should stop and take notice.
That they ought to cry and light candles and tell you that you’re not alone.
~ Kristina McMorris
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ragedy has a way of stopping time.
The event is over in seconds, yet to the stunned psyche, moments are magnified, speech becomes slow and slurred, a million images flash on the screen of memory, and it’s all over.
Then begins the slow work of recovery, both physical and emotional.
Today, we remember those who died eleven years ago today: those at the Twin Towers, and the first responders, the heroes of Flight 93, and the men and women who died at the Pentagon.
May their families be comforted and may we honor their memory by living lives of strength and peace.
Oremus pro invicem,
~ Mikaela
The City of Sleep
("The Brushwood Boy" -- The Day's Work)
Rudyard Kipling
("The Brushwood Boy" -- The Day's Work)
Rudyard Kipling
Over the edge of the purple down,
Where the single lamplight gleams,
Know ye the road to the Merciful Town
That is hard by the Sea of Dreams --
Where the poor may lay their wrongs away,
And the sick may forget to weep?
But we -- pity us! Oh, pity us!
We wakeful; ah, pity us! --
We must go back with Policeman Day --
Back from the City of Sleep!
Weary they turn from the scroll and crown,
Fetter and prayer and plough --
They that go up to the Merciful Town,
For her gates are closing now.
It is their right in the Baths of Night
Body and soul to steep,
But we -- pity us! ah, pity us!
We wakeful; ah, pity us! --
We must go back with Policeman Day --
Back from the City of Sleep!
Over the edge of the purple down,
Ere the tender dreams begin,
Look -- we may look -- at the Merciful Town,
But we may not enter in!
Outcasts all, from her guarded wall
Back to our watch we creep:
We -- pity us! ah, pity us!
We wakeful; ah, pity us! --
We that go back with Policeman Day --
Back from the City of Sleep!
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