Mortar and Pestle
Between hate and enmity, the rose
is crushed; the rose–that never was other
than an opening to love.
Beneath the mill-stone, the grain
is crushed; the grain–that never was other
than a nurturing for love.
Wreathed in flame, the lamb
is consumed; the lamb–that never was other
than an offering of love.
and fermented–bloat the skins
for a coming flight.
Now that you are crushed,
take your staff, and set your face
toward New Jerusalem
Mortar and Pestle
This is absolutely priceless. I love it. From Express.co.uk: It is not known whether David Meade is losing confidence in his prediction the apocalypse will begin on Saturday, September 23, or whether he, like many others, believes the process will … Continue reading →Please visit Acts of the Apostasy to read the full post.
A friend shared this fundraiser for yet another young person wishing to pursue a religious vocation, but student loan debt stands in the way. I don’t discourage you from helping. Meanwhile, the problem looms very personally for us. The other morning, Fr. Gonzo and I were chatting about this and that, the subject of MrPlease visit Riparians at the Gate + Jennifer Fitz to read the full post.
Too often, I forget to see you.
Too often, my love for us
The hustle of my day,
The exhaustion through
Dampens the most
And enflames the most
But seeing you,
standing there now –
Holding nothing back –
Reminds me of that day,
When we strolled
Hand in hand,
of that madding city.
Then, turning, we
dismissed all the rest
(As if they had never existed)
Prosper the Work of Our Hands
Even now, the axe is at the root of the tree,
and the day that Abram heard the call
and left his father’s home,
he took the carpenter’s hatchet
and hacked every statue his father fashioned
and intended to sell
all but the largest, in whose hands
he rested the hatchet.
As he readied to depart, his father
returned from market and demanded,
angrily, to know why Abram had smashed
all the carvings, the work of his hands.
Abram explained that he had not,
but that the statue holding the hatchet had.
His father flew into an uproar
shouting that a statue
could do no such thing.
Abram, hearing the call again,
turned West to a Promised Land
across the desert, explaining to his father
that his father was right, a statue
could do no such thing
All ready for my senate confirmation hearing. Instructions on how to get your own are here. Image description: Me in my black t-shirt with large yellow lettering that says “The Dogma Lives Loudly Within Me.” Below in smaller print is the TCC logo and “CatholicConspiracy.comPlease visit Riparians at the Gate + Jennifer Fitz to read the full post.
I’m so glad to hear that you and Elise are settled in Bois-de-Bas in such an excellent situation. It must be good to have family there to support you, and to “pave the way” as we’d say back home. I’m sure that you will work your way into your own farmstead in short order.
No, I’m not still working at the port; I am now a junior clerk at Suprenant et Fils, and I live at Madame Truc’s boarding house. You may safely write to me at that direction