There is no end of this week of work or a beginning to the next one.  There is simply the work–not insight nor poetry nor even a bad joke to tell.  Even so, there are words of others that redeem my own.  Tonight, Leonard Cohen’s are the ones that transfigure the night.

There’s a blaze of light in every word
It doesn’t matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah