Sarah Ruden's Mistakes
by Mark BauerleinIf you’re going to take on a monument and judge it false, you need to get your facts straight. Continue Reading »
A Possible Argument for Mercy
by Michael R. BurchDid heaven ever seem so far?Remember—we are as You were,but all our lives, from birth to death—Gethsemane in every breath. —Michael R. . . . . Continue Reading »
Chaucer’s Divine Seriousness
by John V. FlemingChaucer: A European Life marion turner princeton, 624 pages, $39.95 Chaucer has not lacked for biographies, but Marion Turner’s is of a rare ambition and competence. Its method is geographical, even topographical, approaching the poet’s life by way of the extraordinarily disparate places . . . . Continue Reading »
Drugged
by Alison BrackenburyIt is warmth which floods you,the plane tree, peeling, new, the bud, the tingled lips,bark smooth to fingertips your own trunk pulsing throughwith love. With coffee, too. —Alison . . . . Continue Reading »
Stream
by Andrew Frisardiafter reading Richard Wilbur’s “Hamlen Brook” Gliding upon cascades of sound, the crumpled leaves that ride the rushmake visible a crystal underhush that gives the movement ground. With . . . . Continue Reading »
Fashioning a Walking Stick
by Charles SoutherlandI cut a hawthorn, stripped the outer barkwhich left five shades of red to contemplate.The first, as dark as blood, the Savior’s markleft by those thorns that ripped his brow, pressed hatedown deep and sprouted. Next, a lighter shadecontrasted, dried like dye cast on a robeof royalty, a third with . . . . Continue Reading »
The Poet and the Mob
by Dan HitchensMurray’s poems pack an impossible amount of meaning into short lines. Continue Reading »
Australia’s Poet
by Kevin HartMurray’s writing about the landscape and mores of rural Australia drew attention in his home country. Continue Reading »
Pieta
by Susan SpearYour gown falls fold on fold, Mary, fullof shadows softening your odd proportions.You sit all wrong, holding Jesus’ body,his large frame draped across your too-wide lap.Your over-sized right hand supports his shoulder.You turn your left hand upward, open, empty.On the rocks of Golgotha you . . . . Continue Reading »
Skipping Stones
by Marissa GloverBecause I’m tired of being angryat the world, I take my son to the riverwhere we pick up rocks at the water’s edge—both of us wrapped tight in Christmasgifts, chest and arms warmin this year’s already bitter weather.We step in shallowswhere cold water’s still clear, searchingthrough . . . . Continue Reading »
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