Early light slants low across the lawn.
Cuplike, this little valley brims with sun.
Pages fill and empty. In the mist
of a still morning, nothing’s out of reach.
Decades fade, the past glides into range,
recoverable, a pristine cobweb caught
motionless in one slat of morning light.
You’re on your daily walk uphill and back.
Summer’s end balances autumn’s start.
One apple falls without a breath of wind,
but fruit past counting’s hidden in the tall
wet grass. Like this valley now, my heart
is full. I start to climb the hill toward you.
My soul flies out to greet you coming down.
Dawn of a New Pre-Christian West
Across the Western world, especially in France, Britain, and the United States, we are seeing a remarkable…
Canada’s Offensive Secularism
On March 25, the Canadian House of Commons voted to repeal the good faith religious opinion defense…
Against “God Alone”
A few years ago, I had some routine surgery. Something went wrong in recovery. The nurses on the…