naophoros Posts

in the Book of Proverbs: It is not for kings, O Lemuel, it is not for kings to drink wine; nor for princes strong drink: Lest they drink, and forget the law, and pervert the judgment of any of the afflicted. Give strong drink unto him that is ready to perish, and wine unto those that be of heavy hearts. Let him drink, and forget his poverty, and remember his misery no more. Open thy mouth for the dumb in the cause of all such as are appointed to destruction. Open thy mouth, judge righteously, and plead the cause of…

Read the PostWine Is Not for Kings

The fulfillment of the ark is everyday beckoning us to make the same ascent, Ourselves to rise toward Christ to make our heart a ready and acceptable ark for the Word of God, That we too may carry the Bread of Life as our daily life and sustenance, Shepherded by the staff of healing, which guides us to the restoration of our nature and the cure for death.   on the Feast of the Entry of the Theotokos into the Temple, 2016

Read the PostEveryday Fulfillment

O Strength of the Land, thou art gone. Bringing God forth through thy works And the abundance of thy lovingkindness for thy people, Virgin is the land again, purified through thy labors. Rejoice, mourning land; restore a smile to thy face O ye who hear tell ever new stories of thine Incomparable Power. Myrrh-scented bitterness of thy tears will rise as a Full incense of thy supplications for repose. Of what works do we begin to recall, for Grace bestowed from on high multiplied them beyond number. The land, yea, the whole world despaired of finding a Lord worthy of…

Read the PostWhere the Righteous Repose

I believe that we carry more within us than we know. The more I hear the monotonous drone of scientific surveys about the incredible untapped potential of the human brain, though they may be true, or how this or that little trait adapted in some ancient sea creature to allow it to walk up on the ground, the more I think about all the aspects of the human which science cannot tell us. Are feelings really just a mix of this and that pheromone? Is the human soul just a complex creation of our imagination? Truly, there is much more…

Read the PostThis I Believe

I’ve carried brotherly concern and care Like leaden weights to hold me to the earth For fear the whys would draw me to the clouds, Ever to float, no bearings for to guide. I’ve carried brotherly concern and care Not knowing how to reassure that I Have always held the selfsame anchor fast, Yet that, for harbor true, will I vouchsafe. I’ve carried brotherly concern and care, The first among us guiding silently Whereto, that first day, in our final home He gently tread, estranged from worldly cares. I’ve carried brotherly concern and care Concern extending empty hands to give,…

Read the PostI’ve Carried Brotherly Concern and Care

The truth is in the eyes of the buffalo, The way of gentleness which conquers all hate, The life which cannot be put out. He wanders not on accident, as if far from home. He is there to be found, to be taken and led, Leading us through all in the utmost humility. (after reading the chapter “How to Tell a True War Story” in the book, The Things They Carried)

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Is evidence found in or on the text? No answer comes forth straight, nor ever does. If habit only answers, I say, in. But when inquiring further, what if on? If evidence is only standing on, Then text has nothing deeper than the skin. A surface with no depth in which to plunge. Sometimes, I think, ‘tis fitting to say on. If evidence is found not on but in, Then volume it requires, not area, Not on a plane, but wide and open space. Sadly evidence may sometimes be just on.

Read the PostIn or On

See how the grass stands, grown, without a roof, Four patches kept from sun to make them thrive, Their tires gone, yet imprints left in life Give ears to hear their presence clearly move. ‘Tis from a different time and now dull red, Its former brilliance faded through long wear; Though steering wheel and handles used till bare, Tires run long miles to change have often led. Not left to rot, a remnant of excess, Not rightly called antique, as some would say, But centered to the straight and narrow way. Last of a cohort, made for nothing less Than…

Read the PostA Sold Classic