Antietam National Battlefield, Maryland
But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate-we can not consecrate-we can not hallow-this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced.
Abraham Lincoln, speaking at the National Cemetery in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, November, 1863
April 4, 1968, America lost Dr. Martin Luther King to a sniper’s bullet. That evening, ignoring police warnings of violence, Robert Kennedy spoke to the black community of Indianapolis in the most heartfelt speech I have heard He spoke in words of anguish, yet he offered hope for America, thus echoing Dr. King’s call to “hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope.” While rage at Dr. King’s murder exploded into riots in scores of American cities, Indianapolis was spared violence. Perhaps because people there believed a leader actually cared? Robert Kennedy’s voice, though silenced 2 months later by an assassin, speaks to us today.
What we need in the United States is not division; what we need in the United States is not hatred; what we need in the United States is not violence and lawlessness, but is love, and wisdom, and compassion toward one another, and a feeling of justice toward those who still suffer within our country, whether they be white or whether they be black.
—Robert Kennedy, April 4, 1968
If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?
—Percy Shelley, Ode to the West Wind
The temperatures do not say winter, yet leaves have become scarce in my part of Michigan and now bare tree branches reach for the sky. Naturally, the poet’s winter and spring may be of the calendar, or they may symbolize times when the sunlight of life has faded and we await its returning warmth.
Then she brings you on her wavelength
And she lets a river answer that you have always been her lover.
RIP, Leonard Cohen, Suzanne
Matthaei Gardens, Ann Arbor, Michigan
Sturgeon River, Michigan
The art of being wise is the art of knowing what to overlook.
A quote that now holds great personal meaning for me, as James suggests we choose not to respond to most negativity, either in our present or stored in the attic of the past.
(suggested by a lovely post on “Let it come from your heart”)