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Pierce Taylor Hibbs

Essays

Dostoevsky and the Panacea for Personal Judgment

Proverbs echo in the wind tunnel of history. We cannot help but hear reverberations of past wisdom in present-day prose. In the Manipulus Florum (“handful of flowers”), for instance, we find the following words attributed to Saint Augustine: “The pride of angels made them demons; the humility of men makes them as angels.” Quite the maxim, isn’t it? In seven hundred years, we haven’t changed all that much. Pride still brings out the worst in us, and humility, the best.…
Pierce Taylor Hibbs
June 30, 2017
Poetry

God of Dust

Early afternoon in late December: Clouds covering the face of the sun Parted and let light flood the living room, A current picking up carpet fibers and dog hair, Offering them up on tiny thermals, An ordinary sacrifice From time to eternity. One small dust particle dances, Pirouettes, waltzes, sighs, And descends, drifting back Into the blue and white carpet. This – that is what you tell them. This is why I believe. Pierce Taylor Hibbs has written for Westminster…
Pierce Taylor Hibbs
June 30, 2016
Poetry

Like Water

“Like water spilled on the ground, which cannot be recovered …” – 2 Samuel 14:14 In a hospital room of white linen and metal gates he lay as a bowl tilted, emptied of half of himself. (Life absorbs as by a cloth.) We watched his eyes intently then; we had no container to put him in. Weeks later he died in a living room, the vessel emptied, a mirror on the cold wooden floor. It has long since evaporated and…
Pierce Taylor Hibbs
June 30, 2016