We stopped for a moment from our political infighting. Paused from the grand mess we have made of things to witness the burning of the gargoyles and flying buttresses of Notre Dame.
The twin towers of gleaming light and and shadowy gloom barely stand but the center steeple is no more. The roof came down too. As well as other priceless treasures. How could we have been so careless to screw up the world and the Cathedral in the heart of Paris at the same time.
This Gothic mixture of glass, metal, wood and stone coalesced into a living vision of hope of what we knew as Our Lady, Notre Dame. Perhaps we can use our collective moment to say a prayer for her. And then for ourselves.
Oh, the gargoyles, how they must have screamed out in pain in that hour. Not for themselves, but for us.