What keeps us alive, what allows us to endure?
I think it is the hope of loving,
or being loved.
I heard a fable once about the sun going on a journey
to find its source, and how the moon wept
without her lover’s
We weep when light does not reach our hearts. We wither
like fields if someone close
does not rain their
Images above by James A. Mangum. Top and front-page mastheads: “El Alma de Maria.” Middle: “Nuestra Senora de Tejas.” Bottom: “Nuestra Senora de Czestochowa.”
Words above: “The Hope of Loving” by Meister Eckhart