Monday Morning Musing for 11.9.2020

November 9, 2020

Columbus, OH

In the midst of all of the national news of this week: an historic election, a growing pandemic, our family also experienced the death of my mother-in-love's sister, my spouse's aunt. She was well into her nineties and had been ill for some time. Still, as her sister said "My sister has died and I am sad."

Emily Dickinson's poem XLIX came to mind today.

A poor heart, a tattered heart,

That sat it down to rest,

Nor noticed that the ebbing day

Flowed silver to the west,

Nor noticed night did soft descend

Nor constellation burn,

Intent upon the vision

Of latitudes unknown.

The angels, happening that way,

This dusty heart espied;

Tenderly took it up from toil

and carried it to God.

There -- sandals for the barefoot,

There -- gathered from the gales,

Do the blue havens by the hand

Lead the wandering sails.

Emily Dickinson

If your heart feels tattered, may you find rest.

May we pray for the dying and those who have died.

May they rest in peace and rise in glory. ~PJH+