Blog archive
February 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
At Dawn by Ed Mervine
01/31/2025
Thank you for Relief Efforts
01/31/2025
Status - January 30, 2025
01/30/2025
Needs as of January 25, 2025
01/24/2025
Eaton Fire Information
01/23/2025
Fires in LA Occupy Our Attention
01/22/2025
Escape to San Diego
01/19/2025
Finding Courage Amid Tragedy
01/19/2025
Responses of Pasadena Village Jan 29, 2025
01/18/2025
A Tale of Three Fires
01/14/2025
The Second Coming
By Dick MyersPosted: 11/06/2022
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.