With lunch's gravy gelling in his veins,
the Padre feels inclined to ruminate.
Reclining in his stateroom, he remains
not comatose, but restful. "While I wait
till Dalla Scala and my pulse abate,
I'll balance all the bad heard on the news
against the good God gives us. Does He use
the media to warn us, but impart
Spring's glory to revive us? I think so, choose
embracing what he gives us in good heart."