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Backyard Apotheosis

By Robert Cording Poetry

All the way to heaven is heaven, Saint Catherine of Sienna supposedly said, and on most days, replete with the stabbed, shot, run-over or into, the stroked, heart-seized, and cancer-stricken, I’d say bullshit and be done with it. But today, at the tail-end of April, the sun warming things up, I’m in shorts and a…

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Coming into the Kingdom

By Christian Wiman Poetry

Coming into the kingdom I was like a man grown old in banishment, a creature of hearsay and habit, prayerless, porous, a survivor of myself. Coming into the kingdom I was like a man stealing into freedom when the tyrant dies, if freedom is freedom where there are no eyes to obstruct it, if the…

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