Doug Anderson: Be Whole Again Beyond Confusion
The young blame us for everything that is wrong
with the world, as if we’d plotted it that way
just to torment them, as if poisoned
the very land we’re standing on. Some of us did.
Erica Etelson: In order to transcend Trumpism, we must tend to suffering — not celebrate it
Our survival as a species depends on our ability to turn away from the delusion of sweet revenge, and show compassion for those we may dislike or detest.
Enheduanna: Seven Sumerian Temple Hymns (2300 BCE)
The temple seems to listen as she describes its resident: “your lady a water bird — sacred woman of the inner chamber,” she says to the temple in the intimate conversation that characterizes each hymn.
Bhikshuni Vijaya: Keep Going
Sometimes the most direct path is not a straight line.
Melanie M. Kirby: Nectar Nomad in the Land of Enchantment
What bees taught me about building community.
Alison Luterman: Witch Walk
I don’t know what I’d expected–a portal, perhaps,
to magic me elsewhere, but she spoke only of a slight shift
in perception, that which might allow
a tiny purplish wildflower to be a doorway.
Video: When the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence canonised Derek Jarman
Born on the streets of San Francisco in the late 1970s, the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence (SPI) is a gay rights group known for their subversive use of religious imagery – and, in particular, donning Catholic nun attire to upend gender norms, protest oppression and satirise moral hypocrisy.
Anoa J. Changa: Muslims and the War on Terror
Maha Hilal’s “Innocent Until Proven Muslim” lays bare the War on Terror’s toll on constitutional rights and marginalized communities.
Doug Anderson: Put Your Hand In My Wound
Jesus out of his tomb and wandering
among the rotting corpses in Ukraine,
dragging his bandages behind him.
Edna St. Vincent Millay: Renascence
All I could see from where I stood
Was three long mountains and a wood;
I turned and looked the other way,
And saw three islands in a bay.
Valerie Bacharach: Passover
I lay a Haggadah by a chair,
unoccupied.
Unearth my Seder plate,
place upon it shank bone, egg, parsley,
bitter herbs. My bitter tears.
Charles Davidson: Sea Saga
Shipmates, friends, and family affectionately called him “Captain.” Throughout his long years in the merchant marine, and until his dying day at the age of seventy-five, Thomas Cromwell spun many a captivating yarn, enthralling the hearts of young and old alike.
Elizabeth Romero: The Sisters Who Raised Me
Now I thank the black butterflies, the Sisters who raised me.
Sister Jane, who taught me how to garden and identify weeds.
Sister Marie Therese, kind and soft. Sister May Bride
Who defied authority to comfort me when I was disgraced.
Vox Populi 