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Blog archive

March 2025

February 2025

Commemorating Black History Month 2025
02/28/2025

Transportation at the Pasadena Village
02/28/2025

A Look at Proposition 19
02/27/2025

Behind the Scenes: Understanding the Pasadena Village Board and Its Role
02/27/2025

Beyond and Within the Village: The Power of One
02/27/2025

Celebrating Black Voices
02/27/2025

Creatively Supporting Our Village Community
02/27/2025

Decluttering: More Than The Name Implies
02/27/2025

Hidden Gems of Forest Lawn Museum
02/27/2025

LA River Walk
02/27/2025

Message from the President
02/27/2025

Phoenix Rising
02/27/2025

1619 Conversations with West African Art
02/25/2025

The Party Line
02/24/2025

Status - Feb 20, 2025
02/20/2025

Bluebird by Charles Bukowski
02/17/2025

Dreams by Langston Hughes
02/17/2025

Haiku - Four by Fritzie
02/17/2025

Haikus - Nine by Virginia
02/17/2025

Wind and Fire
02/17/2025

Partnerships Amplify Relief Efforts
02/07/2025

Another Community Giving Back
02/05/2025

Diary of Disaster Response
02/05/2025

Eaton Fire: A Community United in Loss and Recovery
02/05/2025

Healing Powers of Creative Energy
02/05/2025

Living the Mission
02/05/2025

Message from the President: Honoring Black History Month
02/05/2025

Surviving and Thriving: Elder Health Considerations After the Fires
02/05/2025

Treasure Hunting in The Ashes
02/05/2025

Villager's Stories
02/05/2025

A Beginning of Healing
02/03/2025

Hectic Evacuation From Eaton Canyon Fire
02/02/2025

Hurricanes and Fires are Different Monsters
02/02/2025

January 2025

The Second Coming

By Dick Myers
Posted: 11/06/2022
Tags:

The Second Coming

By William Butler Yeats

Turning and turning in the widening gyre   

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere   

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst   

Are full of passionate intensity.

 

Surely some revelation is at hand;

Surely the Second Coming is at hand.   

The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out   

When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi

Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert   

A shape with lion body and the head of a man,   

A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,   

Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it   

Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.   

The darkness drops again; but now I know   

That twenty centuries of stony sleep

Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,   

And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,   

Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

 

 

This poem was written shortly after the end of what is known as the First World War, which is largely an arrogant exaggeration for an event centered in Europe. It was a terrible war that took generations of young men away from Europe. It was followed shortly by another conflagration more deserving of the description. Some have suggested that Yeats somehow might have foreseen WWII. Perhaps, but he certainly could not have foreseen the times we are experiencing today. He beautifully expressed a dread about the future which many of us are feeling today.

These words, written when my parents were children, often come into my mind as I am watching or thinking about the news of the day. I feel some comfort from hearing them resonate in my mind. But it doesn’t lessen my dread.

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