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Poetry is Where We Are Ourselves
Poetry is the human voice, and are we not of interest to each other?
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Heron Photos and Poem by Wendell Barry
I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great...
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New Poem: Plant yourself in Christ
Be green and supple, fresh and growing, for heaven is like a watered garden.
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New Poem by Me: Summer Solstice
...just the longest day to fill with the sweetest, healthiest liberty...
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New Poem: Obedience is a Good Thing
Then we can find what bliss really is and finally be at liberty to be our best...
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New Poem by Me: The Futility of Self-Reliance
We are like the Israelites overburdened by their Egyptian taskmasters and eager to escape for the Promised Land.
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Poem by Luci Shaw: Speechless
Whose scent, invisible, drowns you in opulence, and for which you can find nothing adequate to say.
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New Poem: What I Learned From My Mother
I learned all this and more from the best example I could have had. Thank you!
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Lines from Wordsworth in Early Spring
The budding twigs spread out their fan, To catch the breezy air; And I must think
