Behold! upward surge through the diadem
Sun lifts the people, its prayer for all of them:
‘This day will be a glimpse of Holy Spirit,
Some will kneel adoring, some will fear it.
Yet all who rise be taken up in the Word,
Though evil built a world and deterred
Creaturehood from knowing its Womb,
The love generated by Bride and Groom; Read More
‘Fulfillment’ by Adam Scott Miller
The pain starts at night and I see myself holding you, your father looking into your eyes and finding a part of himself he had been missing. By the bright morning and cruel red-winged blackbird song though, there is no pain; your crib remains filled only with blankets townspeople and your grandmothers have knitted for you.
In the warm pool in the backyard under the canopy of the aspen grove, I Read More
Daddy has a pen
This is the poem he wrote
Now we call it, ‘Home’ Read More
Photography by Stacey Raven
See the sun setting
And poets aren’t lamenting
It was a perfect palette, the day
What to dismiss as a petty kiss
Upon the cheek of Read More
This creation is what C.S. Lewis meant with the new Christian: The Atman. The quiet yet radiant, the contemplative yet lively. The paradox. The corporeal enigma. The truth. Read More
Art by Giulia Bernardelli
Reading Crime and Punishment in the dark and wet rural Chinese winter and Joshua got sick with a fever on the border town. Wanting to kill the nihilist prick, “Rodya,” I explored the streets alone and brought back a paper bowl of noodles. The inherent problem with writing is that it delineates thought and action. Can we write and free ourselves from further categorization, further erring by playing tricks that depend on the duality illusion? Read More
This is the day that completes you
With the first rays of the mighty eye
Playfully pulling you to play your prelude
Written in the last sunset’s sky Read More
Photo: Joan Fontcuberta
The mind fragile; he crosses an ocean and all disintegrates into order.
Into her arms he goes; rip, decision, spill. Freeing the border.
The old line awakens into dance, A New One! The rhythm spins.
The beat of every blue shade. Simple: A new wor(l)d begins. Read More
A flowering mother. (Source unknown)
I am in bloom. Full of blood, bubbling, full of life. Face aglow, I am awed by the blood vessels flowing to the womb, thickened veins and umbilical pulse. I can feel their swollen contours as they inflect upwards beneath the skin. Bulbous breasts plump with sweet amber, dripping like blackstrap molasses. Read More