The day after Westminster...

If you are force-fed Daffodils in your formative years you could be forgiven for having a bit of a downer on William Wordsworth. However, many years on, I found myself last night drawn to another poem by Wordsworth  and found temporary solace in its familiarity.

Upon Westminster Bridge

Earth has not anything to show more fair:
    Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
    A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth like a garment wear
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
    Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
    Open unto the fields, and to the sky;
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
    In his first splendour valley, rock, or hill;
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
    The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
    And all that mighty heart is lying still!


But that mighty heart is still beating strongly the day after, as we continue with our lives in the aftermath of yesterday's new atrocity. A sense of renewed kinship with other countries who have suffered similarly. A grieving for the policeman who gave up his life in his line of duty, and for those innocents whose lives have been snatched away, or damaged irrevocably. Yesterday served to reinforce solidarity between nations and sharpened our resolve never to let hate win.