Tornadoes in the Southland. Flooding in Pierre/Ft. Pierre.
The world did not begin ending last Saturday, as some would claim. It did, however, continue to groan in pain–and will continue to do so until such time as it ceases to exist.
I am reminded of the little poem by Robert Frost:
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
I do not know what he meant by “perish twice” but it rhymes nicely with “ice” and “suffice.”