Reach out and touch
with all of your fingers.
Do not be afraid,
to taste Continue reading . . . “Julie Atkinson: Lullaby”
I.
Wild with rhapsody twirled the world while held in light,
whirling in symphony to the kaleidoscope shimmering
white in which beautiful Mystery flung itself colored out,
spilling in shimmering waves of the world, and glimmering. Continue reading . . . “Gloria Kurtz: Wind and Color”
I cling to my life,
though I desire open hands.
Take my will from my hands,
peel my fingers gently open Continue reading . . . “Ethan Eshleman: Open My Hands”
Ayana Otto: They say when it rains
They say when it rains the sky cries—
is there further grief?
one that passes— stifles— tears?
Clods in the corn fields Continue reading . . . “Ayana Otto: They say when it rains”
Claudia Lehman: Sunday Morning
What golden lights are in these vessels hid?
What stories, riches, whispers of Your ways?
What open wounds, what trampled battlefields,
what fragrant altar fires in secret blaze? Continue reading . . . “Claudia Lehman: Sunday Morning”
Conrad Martin: Nine at Sunrise
What is this morning?
this quiet ecstasy of life stretching out across the world
so enormously calm?
What is this sun? Continue reading . . . “Conrad Martin: Nine at Sunrise”
Phoebe Anthus: We Walked the Path
We walked the path together with our eyes.
The lichen dappled down north side of wood,
whose flashing needles knit love’s song and stood
with wispy thoughts and almost peaceful sighs. Continue reading . . . “Phoebe Anthus: We Walked the Path”
Claudia Lehman: To Mary, Queen of Scots
I wonder would it comfort you to know,
fair thwarted queen, that I looked through my panes
(when clouds were blowing through the old trees’ hair
and everywhere the scent and sound of rain, Continue reading . . . “Claudia Lehman: To Mary, Queen of Scots”
Kenneth Godoy: The Gentle Art of Breaking Sheep
To fall is to understand,
because falling entails death
or worse, severe pain, Continue reading . . . “Kenneth Godoy: The Gentle Art of Breaking Sheep”
Claudia Martin: A Birthday Poem
There are hands to do what his have always done—
To till rows in the river bottom soil,
To tie a hook onto a grandchild’s line,
To lower shrimp into the pot to boil, Continue reading . . . “Claudia Martin: A Birthday Poem”
Gloria Kurtz: In Swaths of Stars
My rest abed is smothering tonight.
I crack the sheets, (I feel the drawing call)
And I escape the stifle; hie me out
Into the night, where stillness falls Continue reading . . . “Gloria Kurtz: In Swaths of Stars”
We forget.
Why we are here.
Who we are.
We forget Continue reading . . . “Julie Atkinson: We Forget”
Kenneth Godoy: And They Have Escaped the Weight of Darkness
(the final grit of a dark winter)
1.
They are sweeping it away now:
the tiny specks of stones
the skin broken from the asphalt
and all the dust that fell from Continue reading . . . “Kenneth Godoy: And They Have Escaped the Weight of Darkness”
And so I give myself to pain.
I give myself to lilies, broken by the rain,
To weariness, to wasted fields of grain. Continue reading . . . “Kyle Lehman: The Long Winter”
You dressed in common clothes, and walked
beneath the galaxies You made.
You bore the whispered insults and
you wore a borrowed father’s name. Continue reading . . . “Claudia Lehman: Interlude”
His shirt came off, and every man fell back
Before the scrawl of skin and bone. His rack
Of ribs we counted one by one, and knew
This man, exposed. He flung His arms from beam Continue reading . . . “Kyle Lehman: Passion”
Lynn Michael Martin: The Feast
Come, said my Father, and I came,
but as a stranger and a guest,
for he had pledged eternal rest
and the protection of his name. Continue reading . . . “Lynn Michael Martin: The Feast”
Obi Martin: Confront Me With Words
confront me with words
when there’s every reason
to do wrong, or worse, or nothing.
when every emissary Continue reading . . . “Obi Martin: Confront Me With Words”
(Jeremiah 20)
Lord of Hosts,
let me see your vengeance upon them,
let me see it.
This is the trick God played upon me—
I sought to be reason and thought,
inspiration, the man of the generation;
the voice of comfort and tower of strength, Continue reading . . . “Roger Biehn: Benjamin Gate”
Let your proud eyes fall
and let the world fall
from your shoulders.
For one moment Continue reading . . . “Sheri Yutzy: Healing”