Enough, I am to crumble to the floor;
But all around me are perceptive eyes.
I feel like going to my Father’s door
Where His house with its many mansions lies.
There shall I praise Him with tongues manifold
Borrowed from sounds and scents, from clouds and light,
From leaves of poplar combing streams of gold,
The coming back of goldfinches at night.
—Adib Saab
YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE
The Fraying Fabric of the Church of England
St. Paul’s Cathedral has come up with a novel way to fill the pews: It is becoming…
Talkin’ God and Football
Paul Finebaum is known as “the mouth of the South,” but he does a lot of listening.…
Letters—October 2026
I’m grateful for Stephan Pax Leonard’s essay on his conversion to Orthodoxy (“Why I Became Orthodox,” June/July…
