Friday, September 18, 2015


These days are a bit crazy and very full. Between the Pope's impending visit to Philadelphia and the presentations, events, and reflections that come with such a visit and the beginning of the school year, I am trying to balance all that life holds.  I leave later today with nearly two dozen first year students for a retreat weekend.  In many ways this is an exciting and an overwhelming time for them; I can relate.  

I hope in the week ahead to be able to share my reflections about going into my second year of ministry, as well as my encounters with papal pandemonium.  In the meantime, I offer a poem that has come in these first few weeks of school as I reflect on the idea of being at home and discovering where exactly or what exactly home is.

Go to a place you call
they said

And my mind ran
to the top of the stairs
to the closet
with the window inside

And like a little child
it climbed upon the piles
of blankets within
to peer out on the world below

That is where I go
when they say go.
lodged in my brain somehow
where I long for
where my heart is
the home that I carry
from place to place.

A single piece of lace
hanging in the window frame
a geometric star
as if to say
here is where to come
here is where to stay

here is home.