The end of my chapter “This Mortal Coil,” from my book, Baltho, The Dog Who Owned a Man, comes to mind at this sad time in our history. I offer it up in remembrance, not only for the victims of the Sandy Hook Massacre but all the other senseless deaths we’ve had to bear.
Lines from Wordsworth’s Intimations of Immortality came to mind. . . .
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass,
Of glory in the flower,
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind;
In the primal sympathy
Which having been must ever be;
In the soothing thoughts that spring
Out of human suffering;
In the faith that looks through death,
In years that bring the philosophic mind.