The explosive flutter of quail taking flight;the plastic twist of hummingbird gossip;the frantic grate of a hummingbird warningto a trespassing blue jay. The sharp pain
“When you are between your old comfort zone and any possible new answer … the sacred space where the old world is able to fall
I.the perch closes its mouth on the wormmy hand jerks the polelungs swell quickly on a gaspwater wrinkles as fins protest heavefish surrendersguilt surfaces II.air
He who plants the ear, shall he not hear? Psalm 94:6 Who set the heart like a bulbin the chest, shall He not bless the
This collage of tears and laughter,Wanderings toward promise and much laterWhat seems the murder of the Promise.Of Isaac freed and Jephthah’s daughter burnt,Of Hannah’s prayers
for Carl Schalk The composer’s vision lacks centers, he says,The music he writes must fit into his peripheries.Even so, God’s glory dazzles the scores like
Here and now and not yet—like a child in the everpresent,cradling in the palm a rockand finding it a world.
How we come to language, the little ones,testing the percussive syllables of ba and na as if reciting the letters of Arabic.No wonder our letters
baby girl Gilmartin, b. Feb. 2, 1970, d. Feb. 2, 1970 after Sean Thomas Dougherty there is a spacein the universewhere youdo not exist:the breathyou
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