Tuesday, December 29, 2009


He writes in characters too grand
For our short sight to understand;
We catch but broken strokes, and try
To fathom all the mystery
Of withered hopes, of death, of life,
The endless war, the useless strife,-
But there, with larger, clearer sight,
We shall see this - His way was right.

John Oxenham, 1913

This speaks volumes to what my family has been going through lately. More to come on that later...

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