Rome

I have been in Rome the last 5 days and unavailable to write. Unavailable to write in Rome? I am having trouble writing in general lately, but how can I write about these last few days without doing complete violence to that splendid city and the things I have seen. I have, of course, taken extensive notes and plan to gather my thoughts and try to write something in the next few days. We have all heard this before, the grand essays on my adventures and exploits, forthcoming, that never appear. I am obliged to write! And to write well, about these past few days. I saw one of the world's most amazing cities. I was brought to the ground by the most stunningly beautiful art I have ever seen in my life. I was within a few feet of a man who will surely stand as a mountain in history. Yet he seemed so tired, so small, so gone. I met the most wonderful people. I also slept on the cold hard cobble-stone in St. Peter's square, one half an hour at a time before I had to take long walks along the Tiber River to warm up and try to sleep again. I also stood in the oppressive heat for hours on end and saw people behave in a most unbecoming way for the event they progressed toward. On the other hand, on Saturday night when the Cardinal asked for silence you could hear a pin drop in a crowd of tens of thousands as he announced that the Pope had passed away. All you could hear was an eerie blend of silence and the sorrowful weeps of so many who had been touched beyond my most sincere imagination. Is this becoming cliche? Can I, ought I, write about this? It was a weekend I will never forget...