The window is translucent
betwixt heaven and earth.
We make it opaque
with our jet-black glass.
God comes in with his
golden powder and
stirs the molten mixture,
shaping a butterfly reflection
onto our hearts.
The metamorphosis shines
through the stained panes
of the church and
lights the world
until the window
is transparent
and we are face-to-face
with the Master-Glassmith.
On Psalm 84 by Kimberly Phinney
Come! Sit and sip the air in through those boisterous lungs of yours. Then stay silent for a little while. Go out, walk widely, and watch the birds as they follow the...
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Arrangement of Desire by Nicole Rollender
The names of my beloveds who aren’t returning. A night of blue frost, high stars. When we went to that tiny Cape Cod, remember the lights going out? Tinged bird feathers rustling on the...
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