<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" standalone="yes"?><oembed><version><![CDATA[1.0]]></version><provider_name><![CDATA[The Dish]]></provider_name><provider_url><![CDATA[http://dish.andrewsullivan.com]]></provider_url><author_name><![CDATA[Andrew Sullivan]]></author_name><author_url><![CDATA[https://dish.andrewsullivan.com/author/sullydish/]]></author_url><title><![CDATA[A Poem For&nbsp;Monday]]></title><type><![CDATA[link]]></type><html><![CDATA[<p><a href="https://sullydish.files.wordpress.com/2014/02/nympheas_71293_3.jpg"><img data-attachment-id="220747" data-permalink="https://dish.andrewsullivan.com/2014/02/17/a-poem-for-monday-18/nympheas_71293_3/" data-orig-file="https://sullydish.files.wordpress.com/2014/02/nympheas_71293_3.jpg?w=580&#038;h=431" data-orig-size="837,622" data-comments-opened="0" data-image-meta="{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;}" data-image-title="Nympheas_71293_3" data-image-description="" data-medium-file="https://sullydish.files.wordpress.com/2014/02/nympheas_71293_3.jpg?w=580&#038;h=431?w=300" data-large-file="https://sullydish.files.wordpress.com/2014/02/nympheas_71293_3.jpg?w=580&#038;h=431?w=837" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-220747" alt="Nympheas_71293_3" src="https://sullydish.files.wordpress.com/2014/02/nympheas_71293_3.jpg?w=580&#038;h=431" width="580" height="431" srcset="https://sullydish.files.wordpress.com/2014/02/nympheas_71293_3.jpg?w=580&amp;h=431 580w, https://sullydish.files.wordpress.com/2014/02/nympheas_71293_3.jpg?w=150&amp;h=111 150w, https://sullydish.files.wordpress.com/2014/02/nympheas_71293_3.jpg?w=300&amp;h=223 300w, https://sullydish.files.wordpress.com/2014/02/nympheas_71293_3.jpg?w=768&amp;h=571 768w, https://sullydish.files.wordpress.com/2014/02/nympheas_71293_3.jpg 837w" sizes="(max-width: 580px) 100vw, 580px" /></a></p>
<p>&#8220;Monet’s &#8216;Waterlilies'&#8221; by Robert Hayden:</p>
<blockquote><p>Today as the news from Selma and Saigon<br />
poisons the air like fallout,<br />
I come again to see<br />
the serene great picture that I love.</p>
<p>Here space and time exist in light<br />
the eye like the eye of faith believes.<br />
The seen, the known<br />
dissolve in iridescence, become<br />
illusive flesh of light<br />
that was not, was, forever is.</p>
<p>O light beheld as through refracting tears.<br />
Here is the aura of that world<br />
each of us has lost.<br />
Here is the shadow of its joy.</p></blockquote>
<p>(From <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00B1FKFG2/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_il_tl?ie=UTF8&amp;camp=1789&amp;creative=9325&amp;creativeASIN=B00B1FKFG2&amp;linkCode=as2&amp;tag=thdi09-20"><i>The Collected Poems of Robert Hayden</i></a>, edited by Frederick Glaysher  1970 by Robert Hayden. Used by permission of Liveright Publishing Corporation. Painting of waterlilies by Claude Monet, circa 1915, via <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Nympheas_71293_3.jpg">Wikimedia Commons</a>)</p>
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