Showing posts with label 9/11 Memorial. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 9/11 Memorial. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

"APOTHEOSIS" - IN MEMORIAM"

"Apotheosis" - Tobias Haller
Hear our prayers this day as we remember those of many nations and differing faiths whose lives were cut short by the fierce flames of anger and hatred. Hasten the time when the menace of war shall be removed. Cleanse both us and those perceived to be our enemies of all hatred and distrust. Pour out the spirit of peace on all the rulers of our world that we may be brought through strife to the lasting peace.
Thanks to Tobias Haller on Facebook for the picture.

Thanks to James on Facebook for the prayer, who says of the prayer, "I adapted this from the 'official prayer' for the memorial of this day by the Episcopal Diocese of New York.  I stripped it so it is religious-specific free."

Sunday, September 11, 2011

'IN MY BEGINNING IS MY END'

 
Above is the National 9/11 Memorial pool, with the names of all who died in the attack on the World Trade Center.

Below are the beginning and the final verses of the second of T. S. Eliot's 'Four Quartets'.

EAST COKER

In my beginning is my end. In succession
Houses rise and fall, crumble, are extended,
Are removed, destroyed, restored, or in their place
Is an open field, or a factory, or a by-pass.
Old stone to new building, old timber to new fires,
Old fires to ashes, and ashes to the earth
Which is already flesh, fur and faeces,
Bone of man and beast, cornstalk and leaf.
Houses live and die: there is a time for building
And a time for living and for generation
And a time for the wind to break the loosened pane
And to shake the wainscot where the field-mouse trots
And to shake the tattered arras woven with a silent motto.
....

Home is where one starts from. As we grow older
The world becomes stranger, the pattern more complicated
Of dead and living. Not the intense moment
Isolated, with no before and after,
But a lifetime burning in every moment
And not the lifetime of one man only
But of old stones that cannot be deciphered.
There is a time for the evening under starlight,
A time for the evening under lamplight
(The evening with the photograph album).
Love is most nearly itself
When here and now cease to matter.
Old men ought to be explorers
Here or there does not matter
We must be still and still moving
Into another intensity
For a further union, a deeper communion
Through the dark cold and the empty desolation,
The wave cry, the wind cry, the vast waters
Of the petrel and the porpoise. In my end is my beginning.