Michael T. Young: What the World Waits for
Like that day I sat in the yard
under the braids of summer light,
reading, weighing thought
against thought for what was right
or what was wrong
St. John of the Cross: Dark Night of the Soul (English and Spanish)
That light guided me
More surely than the noonday sun
To the place where He was waiting for me
Mike Vargo: Bad Religion, Good Religion
What sort of personal meaning can any of us extract from the current state of religious affairs, which is very strange?
Baron Wormser: Greening
The contest between Trump and Biden represents an allegory come to life of the two forms of consciousness: one candidate who espouses a derisive and divisive let-it-rip individualism that is indifferent to, among other things, truth, and one candidate who has spent a lifetime ministering to the needs of the Corporate State.
Doug Anderson: Underneath the sequined day there are tunnels
We enter them in sleep, hang our masks
on a hook and our names are erased.
Rita Sims Quillen: First Memory
People never believe me
when I tell them I recall
waking in my crib, lying watchful
James Wright: Northern Pike
We prayed for the game warden’s blindness.
We prayed for the road home.
We ate the fish.
