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By Gregory Wolfe Essay

The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit. —————————————John 3:8 THE SUMMER OF 1968, though it mourned the recent assassination of Martin Luther King Jr. and shuddered at the murder…

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A Study for a Figure at the Base of the Crucifixion

By Eric Pankey Poetry

Crows, like ghosts flocked in a field of asphodels, gather. They startle up in the air, drop like a length of chain. She could call their cold caws lamentation or laughter. It is hard to recall what she did not know Before she knelt here: the brayed past smudged from too much handling. (Was there…

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