Something Beautiful

Because it's Friday, and because there is so much strife and bitterness in the air, I share this with you. Republicans, Democrats, Religious, Agnostics, Atheists, males, females, gays, straights, whatever - please take a moment before going on to the next blog or making your next comment, or allowing the shadow of political ugliness to lay another pale shade of gray over your soul. It doesn't answer anything or prove me right or you wrong. It is a delightful short story, and it calls to mind Auden's words from In Memory of WB Yeats:

You were silly like us; your gift survived it all:
The parish of rich women, physical decay,
Yourself. Mad Ireland hurt you into poetry.
Now Ireland has her madness and her weather still,
For poetry makes nothing happen: it survives
In the valley of its making where executives
Would never want to tamper, flows on south
From ranches of isolation and the busy griefs,
Raw towns that we believe and die in; it survives,
A way of happening, a mouth.