Click here if you don’t see subscription options
Justin LacourOctober 12, 2023

I’m wearing black
because I’m mourning
the success of others.

(It’s okay, no one will read this.)

But I’m grateful for the thicket
behind my in-laws’ house—
the frog pond, the plywood bridge.

When I close my eyes there,
I hear You building a home
for me not made of applause

or money,
if I’ll accept it.

Most days, I don’t.

But when I was young and unemployable,
I cried real tears,
proclaiming This is God loving me,
even in defeat.

I want that faith again,
trust that outstrips understanding,
a whisper of reassurance,

on a path I know nothing about.

More: Poetry

The latest from america

An overlooked moment in obituaries of Henry Kissinger is the trial of the Harrisburg Seven: activists, many of whom were priests and women religious, who were accused of plotting to kidnap Henry Kissinger in 1970.
James T. KeaneDecember 04, 2023
Three2Six offers a basic education to undocumented migrant and refugee children, many of whom are barred from South Africa’s public schools because of their residency status.
Russell Pollitt, S.J.December 04, 2023
U.S. Senator J. D. Vance speaks at the 2023 Turning Point Action Conference in West Palm Beach, Fla. (Gage Skidmore, via Wikimedia Commons)
J.D. Vance’s economic populist streak, combined with his pro-life views and support for religious liberty, could offer an alternative to the two major political parties.
Paul James MacraeDecember 04, 2023
A Reflection for Monday of the First Week of Advent, by Simcha Fisher
Simcha FisherDecember 04, 2023