Looking Down

There is a mute abandon in the prim
And music in the silence of relief.
There is refreshment in the grey and grim
And peace in the unravelling of grief.
There comes an appetite before a feast
That some would label hunger out of fear,
But laughter, too, sleeps half the day at least,
And trees are gladly leafless half the year.
You ask why poets pick depression’s bones
When lilacs beckon to be picked instead;
Why downcast choirs moan of mud and stones
When half the heavens shimmer overhead.
There lives some voice within us that seems made
To praise the sun by singing of its shade.

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.

Make your Fall Campaign gift now using the button below.

GIVE NOW

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.

Next
YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE

Why the Death Penalty Is a Sore Point for Papal Authority

Joseph Shaw

Pope Leo XIV marked World Day Against the Death Penalty, observed on October 10, with the following…

The Myth of St. Francis

Gabriel Said Reynolds

At the beginning of his 2020 encyclical, Fratelli Tutti, Pope ­Francis speaks of “an episode in the…

Job and Her

J. Mark Mutz

It is said that Job lost everything, but she has lost more. All her possessions—the money, the…