Perils of the Profession

The Three Stages of Creation

And the evening and the morning were the first day. —Gen. 1.5

When resurrection’s rest has come,
And sundown started the Sabbath day, Continue reading . . . “Richard Stoltzfoos: Seventh Summer”

We wake to sleep, we breathe to cry.
Our mothers dreamed and brought us forth to die;
For every cradle opens up a grave,
And every child is one we cannot save. Continue reading . . . “Kyle Lehman: We Wake to Sleep”

I see your face in every face I see,
for when you left me, you left me no more
than hopes unsure, that when these glimpses flee,
they will not leave my yearning senses poor Continue reading . . . “Lynn Michael Martin: I See Your Face”

I followed the sun away one night.
The day was pressing inside my throat,
and I could not stay—
I followed the sun away. Continue reading . . . “Conrad Martin: Why We Are Silent”

I stared at Death, and he stared back.
I felt his breath upon my cheek.
And for his singular command
I listened, but he did not speak.
Continue reading . . . “Marlene Brubacher: Almost”

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: Mary Queen of Scots”

O Sleep, dark baptism to the land of sight,
your floods rise over me; I sink beneath
where nameless tendrils turn a silent wreath
under the clouds of shadow-tinctured night. Continue reading . . . “Lynn Michael Martin: To Sleep”