“How
should I not be glad to contemplate
the
clouds clearing beyond the dormer window
and
a high tide reflected on the ceiling?
There
will be dying, there will be dying,
but
there is no need to go into that.
The
poems flow from the hand unbidden
and
the hidden source is the watchful heart.
The
sun rises in spite of everything
and
the far cities are beautiful and bright.
I
lie here in a riot of sunlight
watching
the day break and the clouds flying.
Everything
is going to be all right.”—Irish poet Derek Mahon, “Everything is Going to be
All Right,” from Selected Poems (1991)
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