I am no lazy lover
with sweeping grandeurs
of small talk. Words, you discover
are passing; love endures.
Proffered is no measured length
of the potential soul.
Rather, influence of strength,
corner-stone, cemented whole.
The senses know the form
and smile and eyes
of love, but the lover’s norm
is to pierce through this disguise
to spirit which in all things
does love intensify
to ripened being. Each day that sings
our love is more July.
Sand below and stars above
give instancy of me.
Mine is no lazy love;
come taste my love and see.
Dear Reader,
Can I be direct with you?
War abroad. Socialists on the rise. AI upending human life. Endless uproar online. The modern attention economy doesn’t want readers — it wants users enslaved to the tyranny of the present.
First Things is the antidote: literary excellence, timeless truths, and a fixed point of reference in a culture that has lost its bearings.
But we can’t do it without readers like you.
Our goal: Raise $150,000 by November 1 to sustain First Things in the year ahead.
Your gift anchors readers in the permanent things.
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If you have any questions or would like more information, please contact Giovanni Del Piero, Director of the Editor’s Circle, at gdelpiero@firstthings.com or 212-627-1985.
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