Gloria Jane was born May 30, 2019. I wrote the first poem in the Spring of 2018 as Sarah and I began to take seriously the possibility of becoming parents, the second during the third trimester, and the third on our final getaway before our daughter was born. Imagining Gloria was written on a hunch that weRead more
___ In the Praetorium His is the name on everyone’s lips the Galilean who talks in riddles tangled like empty nets. We know his kind, fiery, foolish enough to turn up this week of all bloody weeks. What are they saying this time in the courts about his chances? Oh, it’s not looking good. FoolishRead more
On a face out the shade;And the tilled field frozen;From the candle’s wick made;Bright-burning, glad-chosen;Through the tree on the road;In the corners of hearts;Lightly lifting the load;Happ’ly sparking new starts. Read more
How the eye’s happy holding Early light, bright-shafting over The chapel, igniting late leaves, Embers among the conifers. How the windows fill with colour As empty houses glad-glow With heaven treasure; The world’s Lamp lit, in patient advance. How gentle grows the pail gold, Drawing out the good bearing On all creatures; a kinder wordRead more
Cold blue curtains rise off dappled slate, Where winds blow west out the mountain gate, Up calm country tall and set adrift Light thoughts, air here thin enough to lift.
Give me grey sheets, streams on streams, Rivers vertical in reams; Colours warm descending round, Blankets strewn about the ground; Death on death, browns and golds, Forests bursting at the folds; Tables full with laugher loud, The meek, the most, the small, the proud; Hands for prayer and tears for thanks, Friendly commune without ranks;Read more
Drawn in darkest green-gloom sits the Water-mouth, mighty cedar, mountain, Striking some somber note, haunting note: Mystery for the unsurprised mind; Depth where imagination dim-delves; A portal unknown known through The wall drawing.
The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork. Day to day pours out speech, and night to night reveals knowledge. There is no speech, nor are there words, whose voice is not heard. Their voice goes out through all the earth, and their words to the end of theRead more
Two horses by the gate, cross-necked, One earthen brown the other creme, Stand watching withered leaves sun-wrecked On branches nearing winterlean; Two horses lit by morning lamp, One younger by four years or so, Still, listening in late summer’s damp For what the elder knows will grow; Two horses in the green, streamed field,Read more
Every rock’s a throne on The Tyrrhenian Sea Where the blue court waits Indiscriminately On every man, a king, Rich as any could be Honoured and guarded by The sentry of Capri. Every rock’s a throne on The Tyrrhenian Sea But should the azure Beckon such kings to free Their seats, and swim beyond, MereRead more