Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts

Ode to a Nightingale

Benedict Cumberbatch reads "Ode to a Nightingale" by John Keats. Read along here . Plaintive, haunting. Hear the longing o...

>> a poem by Ernesto Cardenal, an interpretation of the biblical Psalm 22, of David, from Cardenal's "Salmos de este mome...

Were some of us made for the desert and some for the trees? Some for the bluffs and some for the sea? Some for the warmth at the earth's...

I love to hear my husband sing, because he sings like he lives: straightforwardly, honestly, without pretense, without effort to i...

(if God can change a wretch like me, then surely He could calm a troubled sea.) (if God from proud to meek can make, then wine from wate...

We've labeled one day in the year "Easter" and on it we remember the resurrection of Christ from the darkness of the gr...

To pluck it is a pity, To leave it is a pity, Ah, this violet. [Naojo] // this sums up my life right now.

She measures herself to her sister and falls short. She argues with her dad, but he’s not listening. She flunks geometry without tr...

"The Word" by Tony Hoagland Down near the bottom of the crossed-out list of things you have to do today, between "gre...

My long-time friend Trisha has a couple boys, and last week they came out of Sabbath School and said, "So Mommy, if Jesus lives in our ...

The thunder was the test of You, dropping from heaven in heavy bursts. Ravenous lightning licking up the sky was the test...

It was somewhere between the time that his left foot pushed off the lower step and his right foot landed on the next step that sh...

my heart has had a hole inside and from it drips my fear and that fear falls into my legs and makes them weak. but I worry t...

Death asleep was soon disturbed amidst his gloomy dreams by a brilliant, flashing hand afire with golden beams....

If death be (as it says in ancient, sacred words) a sleep--- Does it perhaps on darkened earth recline its weary head, at ...

The pomegranate was hiding secrets. Smoothed with bright red, a lovely shape-- but what I wanted was on the inside. I cut open t...

The hues admired by passing eyes which here adorn each branch and limb so impress the passers-by, yet are birthed from pain within. ...

Up temple steps, one Alistair goes reluctantly with arms full of books and his left shoe untied and a mind back in the stacks searching...

A trembling brown bird standing in the high grass turns out to be a blown oakleaf after all. Was the leaf playing bird, or was it “jus...

"I entreat you therefore, brothers and sisters, in view of God's mercy, that you present your bodies as a living sacrifice to God, ...

moves and removes