I was reminded of this poem, which fits both my current mood in post-election fugue.
And the head is held high
Where knowledge is free
Where the world has not been broken up into
fragments by
narrow domestic walls
Where words come out from the depths of truth
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards
perfection
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its
way into the
dreary desert sands of dead habit
Where the mind is led forward by Thee into
ever-widening
thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my father, let my
country awake
Must read more Tagore.
[Goes off to do some reading]
