Yellow is the first to bleed into the clusters of green
that canopy the sidewalks, tidy lawns, and porch stoops
and the edges of golden harvest fields are ribboned with
mullein, yarrow, and dandelion that feed shy rabbits and curious deer. Continue reading . . . “Rowena Zuercher: Birth of Yellow”
He fumbles at your Soul
As Players at the Keys
Before they drop full Music on—
He stuns you by degrees—
The beautiful St. Michael’s Episcopal Church in Raleigh, North Carolina has a superb organ.
In this church, the Choir of Clare College once sang three ancient hymn texts to contemporary chorale music (complex, dissonance-rich, odd) composed by Jonathan Harvey. Continue reading . . . “Advent XXI”
One nation under God, our country stands.
The blood of a billion babies stain these hands
that push poor huddles of humanity
from golden shores where tired men breathe free Continue reading . . . “Advent XX”
by Lynn Michael Martin
an excerpt from a longer poem that I wrote in the character of Anglo-Saxon verse
Now hear me hail the heavens above,
where in fires fermented, a foam of the sky
distills in stars to be stirred by comets.
It fills the cosmos, and floats the planets, Continue reading . . . “Advent XVII”
That Life was manifest, the Life divine
That soars in nature’s heights, and fills her deeps;
The Life that weaves the infinite design
That makes all lives and natures intertwine; Continue reading . . . “Advent XII”