Doug Anderson: Questions
Won’t you take off your mask no, not that mask
but the one you’ve made with the muscles of your face
a shield of hide can you let it go
Martin Edmunds: Personal Mythology
You’re Adam. She’s Eve.
You fuck up: cannot conceive
Yahweh’s anger.
Chard deNiord: I Was Walking Around
in the woods below the house by the stream when suddenly I thought, Why write another thing about the woods or stream or sky as I have for years? Why … Continue reading
Video: Alpha Mare
After a mental health crisis, Karin finds peace among her beloved horses.
John O’Donohue: Beannacht
May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
May the clarity of light be yours,
May the fluency of the ocean be yours,
May the protection of the ancestors be yours.
Rachel Hadas: Ghost guest
I sometimes think I recognize the face
of my own death. Knowing it is nearer
makes me feel it ought to be familiar,
a neutral guest I’ve seen somewhere before.
Julia Conley: Archbishop Desmond Tutu, Defender of Human Rights in South Africa and Beyond, Dies at 90
“If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.”
Michael Simms: Jesus
Sixteen and running
From my father’s fists
I once tried to jump on a moving train
Video: The Spiritual Exercises
What risks of the heart are worth taking? This is a story of love prevailing against all odds.
Jericho Brown: Nativity
Come trouble’s birthday,
I think of every gift people get
They don’t use. Oh, and I
Pray.
Paul Christensen: A Christmas at Home
She didn’t know why, but she said she was very happy, as happy as she had ever been. She was like a voice in the midst of war, a calming, soothing voice from home. He heard the words, he was moved to tears at their affection. He had survived.
Edna St. Vincent Millay: Recuerdo
We hailed, “Good morrow, mother!” to a shawl-
covered head,
And bought a morning paper which neither of us
read;
And she wept, “God bless you!” for the apples and
pears,
and we gave her all our money but our subway fares.
Jason Irwin: Ouija Board
I asked When? And How?
I was thirteen. My cousin, twelve.
It said I would be 41.
The same age my mother was that Christmas.
Elvis was 42 when he died. Jesus, 33.
Patricia A. Nugent: Away from the Manger
Too late, I spotted Baby Jesus’ feet sticking out of Punkin’s mouth – snatched from the tabletop nativity scene. I flew across the room to rescue the Prince of Peace. Punkin took a big gulp, and Jesus disappeared down his gullet.
