I’m here because I hated
Heedless worshipers of words but trust
A truth. I’ve known the eagle’s and the worm’s
Eye view, and am quite happy with one room
That’s not a cell, have watched my muscles
Slack my bones grown brittle, heard my stomach
Quease around an empty table. One forgotten
Cup crushed by the roadside, I head them talk
As though I am not.
Your call, Lord. I am ashamed
For you, who might stop up their mouths with dirt
Who dare to puff and dandle lies about me.
Mercy traces hate like lightning through orked limbs
Scorching leaf and root: they thought God was a tree,
Safe shelter from the winter thunderstorms.
I spoke too quickly when I cried forgotten.
I hear my thoughts above the clamored claims
Upon your year, and you reply: I trust that life
Lets life go on. When time’s up,
Life lets go.
Letters
Joshua T. Katz’s (“Pure Episcopalianism,” May 2025) reason for a theologically conservative person joining a theologically liberal…
The Revival of Patristics
On May 25, 1990, the renowned patristics scholar Charles Kannengiesser, S.J., delivered a lecture at the annual…
The Enduring Legacy of the Spanish Mystics
Last autumn, I spent a few days at my family’s coastal country house in northwestern Spain. The…