The first paragraph in Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities, words of genius, and it sounds a bit familiar:

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,

It was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness,

It was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity,

It was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness,

It was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair,

We had everything before us, we had nothing before us,

We were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way…”

Reading these words is like looking into a prism, a many-faceted crystal, or playing with a Rubik’s Cube. So much is here to meditate upon regarding our own times. Light and Dark are rapidly separating. This could be a Lenten exercise, if paired with self-examination. Where am I in this story?

How about this one?…

From William Butler Yeats’ poem, “The Second Coming:”

“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.”