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A Family Like Mine: Biblical Stories of Love, Loss, and Longing, by Rosalind C Hughes, is available from Upper Room Books.https://bookstore.upperroom.org/Products/1921/a-family-like-mine.aspx
Category Archives: poetry
January 9, 2021 Beyond Jordan, the baptizer cried repentance, preaching to snakes, devouring locusts, razing the wilderness with his words, confronting kings and drowning sins. At his neck, the knowledge of his own humility, the prickling of glory about to … Continue reading
They travelled by night.
They followed his star, meaning
they had to wait for darkness to fall as a mantle
about their shoulders to know the way; Continue reading
scented with humanity – the particulates of life – held for what seemed like eternity, let loose at last (his mother, astonished at the audacity of her body, gasped) with the force of a singular creation, splitting the skies, setting … Continue reading
This poem first appeared at Bearings Online, a publication of the Collegeville Institute, at last year’s winter solstice Solstice At the abyss of the yearthe sun is silent;but in the bleak midwintersomething shiftsA fearful hope, homunculus,wakes the woman: lightbeyond the … Continue reading
Her wisdom undoes arrogance,
the thrones of power are dust underfoot.
My God, my spirit sings your praise;
my soul sings out your holy Name. Continue reading
They strew palms before the hooves of a donkeylike candy beneath the wheels of a slowly-moving car. My God has laid before me a path of pine needles,and will I hesitate to cry Hosanna?
Looking to a goose feather floating on the surfacefor a landmark is rank foolishness; yet its inconstancy may be no greater thanthe line of seagulls ranged along the rocksnor the white-capped waves,the deck-chaired people on the sand, even the lake … Continue reading
Ripping tides, throwing horses, hurling seabirds to the sky, thrashing rock into sand, wrecking the abandoned homes of limpets and clams, reducing it all to grit and foam, beaching itself in exhaustion, receding; the sand dries, the rock stands and … Continue reading
Breaking open pistachios by the Friday fire, pitching shells toward the pit. I wonder whom the meat of casements that arrive empty fed. Others refuse to open, peeling back my thumb nails; I surrender, hurl them to the fire. A … Continue reading