On Halloween we shouted “Trick or Treat”
And held out plastic pumpkins for our loot.
We’d say our thank-you’s nicely and we’d scoot
To neighbors’ houses farther down the street.
November 1 we would be off from school;
We’d sit in heavy sweaters hearing Mass
For all the saintly dead who earned their pass
To Paradise, Jerusalem the jewel.
Now All Souls’ Day I linger late in bed;
November winds torment the weary trees.
I listen to them groan. My obsequies
Are haunted by my much beloved dead.
November mirrors everyone who grieves,
But Easter will return with April’s leaves.
The Church’s Answer to the World (ft. Carter Griffin)
In the latest installment of the ongoing interview series with contributing editor Mark Bauerlein, Fr. Carter Griffin…
Voyages to the End of the World
Francis Bacon dreamed of abolishing disease, natural disasters, and chance itself. He also dreamed of abolishing God.
The Lost Art of Saying “No”
Conservative pundit Matt Walsh recently contended that “we have to recapture the long-lost art of saying ‘no.’”…