Lord grant, that we, purveyors of the day, may one day wake, unconscious of our weapons; lacking even the vocabulary to describe that which we hate, or even the shapes of our discomforts... Instead, possessed by light, our souls laid bare... we shall pick up our discourse and argue over the proper shade of sunset, or sunrise painting the august horizon and part in friendly disagreement... Both right, neither wrong, and richer for the simple converse, bless us to see such gentle auspices in our time... this oh Lord, I do pray. Jennifer Steier 8/26/2020 |