When the mind, Heart and soul grow quiet In ways that frighten us. When our thoughts of God grow dim and Saints and angels seem to slip away, It is tempting to believe it is an end. But the fading away of our spiritual selves Is often the soul retreating under a great sorrow, Gathering itself somewhere deeper than memory. This spiritual pseudodementia reminds us that Grief, loneliness, and unspoken pain Can wear the face of forgetting or unbelieving. But healing is still poss

Tragic circumstances are neither coordinated events nor isolated actions born simply from maniacal factions and figures who seek to harm or destroy those with whom they disagree. These calamities we experience, and witness with ever greater frequency, are symptoms of a deeper crisis within modern civilization itself. The disintegration of human value, the emptiness of modern existence, and the discontinuity, fragmentation, and chaos within each individual have created a vacuu

Cacophonous and Thunderous, O World of Mine Rending and Reaping with your Screeching and Shrieking, Tending to the Flocks of your Dead souls. Having sacrificed and Saved O God of Mine, By descending and Ascending to tend the Flocks of Your Blessed souls. What are we to do with The newly dying, Lying dormant between Prayerless tombs and Pleas for help? Help us open their ears, Eternal One, To the sound of Your mystical silence, For the final hour comes! Icon of the Apocalypse