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And I have felt

An inner boiling bubbling with the building

Of uncovered spires; a spirit awakened

By something vastly asking exactly

Who connects this massive structure

And these wired writers to this nighttime,

And the French Alps, and our working hands:

A light and a darkness that contrasts

All love, all words written, spoken,

And the Cathedral making me weep.

 

By Suzanne Beranek