Maximize your screen with your F11 key

An Imperfect Life

poetry by Fr. Harold Macdonald

The Series

Love is the only way...






Quanta of Love


Only love can heal the soul; remedy

most joyful! Bitter to the taste at first

perhaps, the wounds being cleansed, anointed, nursed.

But soon a happy, wholesome chemistry.

From the Self of God comes love in quanta,

packs of light and warmth, infinitely quick

eagerly arrive before they start, they fix;

penetrate the thickest wall, undaunted.

Every created thing receives the light

Even black holes greedily consume it

Each morning sure she comes; we assume it

At her breast all suck, all play and all delight.

And so with love, stored up or poured out free.

The proof of love: God hanging on a tree.