With peace on
earth, good will to men.
I had just hanged the last ornament on our office tree
when the news about the shooting in California came in. I sat down is shock
soon to be replaced by fear and sadness. Oh not again, I thought. Wordsworth's
words resounded in my head:
And in despair I bowed my head:
'There is no peace on earth, ' I said
'For hate is strong, and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.'
I looked at the tree, all bright and sparkling, through the veil of my tears and I pleaded
with it to object, to pull me out of the dark and hopeless place. It did, after all what kind of magic tree
would it be if it hadn't. Wordsworth continued:
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
'God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail, With peace on
earth, good will to men.'
In a world where the Youth is disillusioned, God an
excuse to act out homicidal rage and Heroes either absent or powerless to
inspire and amaze may poetry keep Hope burning bright.
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