By Lisa Huddleston
As Irish luck would have it, I tried reading today’s passage for the #LentChallenge while listening to “Fresh Air” on NPR. In one ear, Irish-American author Alice McDermott quoted W.B. Yeats’ “A Drunken Man’s Praise of Sobriety”:
O mind your feet, O mind your feet,
Keep dancing like a wave,
And under every dancer
A dead man in his grave.
And in my other ear (or rather through my mind’s eyes) I read from The Gospel of Luke:
You’re hopeless, you Pharisees! Frauds! …
People walk over that nice, grassy surface, never
suspecting the rot and corruption
that is six feet under.
And I smiled a wee bit at the similarities. The dancers and the walkers both willfully unaware of the corruption just six feet away. Twiddle dee dee.