I fed you. You wore your helmet of ice. And mask of ice. Only a mouth
opening. Mittens, slippers. Of ice. Electric blanket to maintain
homeostasis. Tubes seeding your blood with the molecules that scour.
Piece by piece. And read to you, afraid of my voice, while around us
the rude populations were moaning, weeping, begging behind curtains.
I didn’t want to be here; yet I came back. I had no choice. And this time
you fed me.
Marriage
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A hymn to mercy and love, “Love Calls Us to the Things of This World” springs to my lips when my heart is quiet. I teach it as often as I can for my introductory poetry students.
What caused Dorothy Day to stand out in her time, as it does still, is the way her spiritual life was expressed not only in her daily prayer but in her response to the needs of her neighbors, to the poor and to the demands of history.
Bishop W. Shawn McKnight of Jefferson City, who earlier prohibited specific hymns and composers, has now issued a new decree opening a synodal approach to the issue.
Dorothy Day called for “a revolution of the heart,” a shift away from self-interest to solidarity. That isn’t accomplished by a single election.