Pietà
A POEM
“Does the darkness cradle thee Than mine arms more tenderly?”
— Willa Cather
….I know but one thing
You grew
And grew
Standing forth
Tall…taut
Pain wrapped you
Beyond my heart’s fullness
You are lying across
My lap
I who gave you birth
Now cradle you
In the motherness
Of me
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“Well, Father, my share of the farm has
been turned into gold.
I take it…
Beatitude in Blue
Enveil God’s face, winged seraphim
Before the dazzling throne:
The onyx clouds cannot hide Him
…
What Is the Purpose of Poetry?
Poetry was once understood to be an anthropological episteme, a way of knowing, if only through a glass darkly.