An essay that I recently wrote has been published over at Mere Orthodoxy. In it, I argue that localism provides the much needed resources for building strong and compassionate communities, as well as anchoring our cultural and political endeavors to their proper aims. I also respond to the notion that localism, unchecked by a federal…
London Snow When men were all asleep the snow came flying, In large white flakes falling on the city brown, Stealthily and perpetually settling and loosely lying, Hushing the latest traffic of the drowsy town; Deadening, muffling, stifling its murmurs failing; Lazily and incessantly floating down and down: Silently sifting and veiling road, roof and…
The Soldier If I should die, think only this of me; That there's some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England. There shall be In that rich earth a richer dust concealed; A dust whom England bore, shaped, and made aware, Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam A…
Dickinson has the wondrous capacity to produce verse both so short in length, yet timeless in its wisdom. One could read this poem in a few moments, but spend an entire lifetime learning of its truth. Indeed, these lines contain insights which have held true throughout the centuries, and which are not going away any…
I Wandered Lonely as a CloudI wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky…
"Come see the north wind's masonry." Ralph Waldo Emerson said this of some other place, but it seems that he wrote these lines looking out my own window this morning. I have read this poem many times before, but as usually occurs when experiencing timeless poetry, today it takes on a new meaning. In the…
The ColiseumType of the antique Rome! Rich reliquary Of lofty contemplation left to Time By buried centuries of pomp and power! At length—at length—after so many days Of weary pilgrimage and burning thirst (Thirst for the springs of lore that in thee lie), I kneel, an altered and an humble man, Amid thy shadows, and…
Recent weeks have brought with them some fascinating reflections on the notion of disenchantment. Poe's "Sonnet—To Science," a poem I recently shared, laments the inevitable banishment of magic from the natural world at the hands of Science; then there's this excellent piece by Derek Rishmawy, in which he questions the disenchanted narrative a bit. Along similar lines,…
William Harmon's The Top 500 Poems offers us this week's poem, one of my favorites from Robert Frost. "Good fences make good neighbors." Harmon comments here on the proverb Frost so brilliantly embeds within it: "The sentiment can be traced back to Poor Richard's Almanac, but the wording is Frost's own, so that he is alone among…
I have done enough reading online within evangelical-ish circles to know that I should be much farther along in my compulsory Wendell Berry literacy. That said, with a contrite spirit I have neglected my duties no more, and these past few months have found me reading his poetry and a few of his essays. No…
