The tourists traipse; the sights go by, a blur
of cramped and cobbled streets where faux cafés
and sellers of souvenirs administer
the sacraments of our despairing days.
Four-hundred-year-old churches punctuate
limp sentences of shops that line the ways.
The remnants of the Faith still fascinate,
and sunlight breaks through hedonism’s haze.
We enter in, my bride and I: we find
the windows in a multi-color blaze;
the altar soars before; pipes loom behind.
Outside the world winds down its final phase.
But pendant in the sanctuary’s air,
the God we crucified calls us to prayer.
The Realities of Empire (ft. Nathan Pinkoski)
In this episode, Nathan Pinkoski joins R. R. Reno on The Editor’s Desk to talk about his…
Can Liberals Be Pronatalists?
Last year the United Nations Population Division predicted that global population will peak in approximately sixty years,…
From Little Rock to Minneapolis
Recent reports and images from Minneapolis reminded me of Little Rock in 1957, where attempts were made…