The fog no longer comes on little cat feet
Nor will it ever move on.
Relentless and indifferent
With wolf eyes it claws at her memories,
Now all shredded and bleeding.
She reaches out a hand from somewhere beneath the shroud,
She searches for love, for life, for me, for God.
Her hand is firm and soft and certain,
But her thoughts reel in clouds of confusion and despair.
Implacable, the fog spreads along the byways and alleyways of her mind,
Encircling her dreams and dashing hope on jagged stone.
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We hope you will join us in The Imaginative Conservative community. The Imaginative Conservative is an online journal for those who seek the True, the Good and the Beautiful. We address culture, liberal learning, politics, political economy, literature, the arts, and the American Republic in the tradition of Russell Kirk, T.S. Eliot, Edmund Burke, Irving Babbitt, Wilhelm Roepke, Robert Nisbet, Richard Weaver, M.E. Bradford, Eric Voegelin, Christopher Dawson, Paul Elmer More, and other leaders of Imaginative Conservatism. Some conservatives may look at the state of Western culture and the American Republic and see a huge dark cloud which seems ready to unleash a storm that may well wash away what we most treasure of our inherited ways. Others focus on the silver lining which may be found in the next generation of traditional conservatives who have been inspired by Dr. Kirk and his like. We hope that The Imaginative Conservative answers T.S. Eliot’s call to “redeem the time, redeem the dream.” The Imaginative Conservative offers to our families, our communities, and the Republic, a conservatism of hope, grace, charity, gratitude, and prayer.
Editor’s Note: The featured image is “Die Landschaft Mit Den Drei Bäumen (The Three Trees)” (1643) by Rembrandt van Rijn (1606-1669), courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.