And yet, O Lord, you are our Father. We are the clay and you are the Potter. We are all formed by your hand. Isaiah 64:8 God takes a ball...

His body hung upon the cross Like shattered glass Like broken dreams A brittle thing A fragile flower Crushed. His blood congealed the...

“O foolish Cupid,” fair Apollo mocked. “To think that you, a wanton boy, should dare To think yourself the equal to a man Of arms, or...

This poem (and the music that accompanies it) was written to honor the memory of a Japanese woman who survived two American bombings of...

Come, Darkness Come, Darkness, Wrap me in your ebon mantle as a shroud. Freed from wearied weariness may I find peace Lost within the...

In dactylic hexameter Turgid the sea as it billows and foams in the face of the tempest. Wind-lifted wave-crests explode into diamonds...