More on: psalms

Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful, for I have taken refuge in you; in the shadow of your wings will I take refuge until this time of trouble has gone by. _______________Psalm 57:1 Sitting in the gazebo at Saint Meinrad Archabbey, ___she hears the sky grumbling as one cloud swells, ______its lining stretched…

If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts. ___________________—Psalm 95 VI At first the thunder and rain defeat but then renew the ground and break it terribly open. Now even the dawn has heavy darkness in it, the sun, in silence seeming to refuse the sky, has heeded what was needed, to stun…

Lord, let your face be lined. Lord, let your hair be gray with patience. Holy Father, let your cheeks be silver with long growth as you put up with me and put up with me. Lord, let your face be a blazon of parts in which I can name you sufficient to be seen in…

Then, the Lord heard me in the wilderness of my soul. Then, the lost place of me became clear. Then, I recognized distraction for what it is. Then, I was freed from the desert of diversion. Then, I was moved to the green oasis within me. Then, the still voice of the Lord was as…

I love the fierce wind outside my window but know I would freeze in it. I love the fierce wind from where I view it. I love to wake and feel the presence of the Lord within. I feel his presence only to lose it, lose his presence only to feel it return. I am…

The summer issue of Image includes four poems by Nicholas Samaras, one of which was influenced by Michael Sitaras’ conceptual art project, Sacred Air. All poems are part of his work on a book of poems in response to the biblical Psalms. We asked Nicholas how these poems began.   Image: You’ve been working on…

Proverbs master the man. He longs to be simple who writes a proverb. A proverb well chosen for a tombstone is a life. He who does not understand a proverb is the hole in a wire hanger. The weakest proverb is great, though a great proverb is never weak. There is no weak proverb. A…

THE LORD GOD BIRD fled its home on the Singer Tract in the bayou of Louisiana in 1944 and hasn’t been conclusively seen or heard from since. Its official name is the ivory-billed woodpecker. Campephilus principalis. The bird was the largest woodpecker in America until its purported demise. Great God, people were known to say.…

The Word-Soaked World Troubling the Lexicon of Art and Faith Since 1989, Image has hosted a conversation at the nexus of art and faith among writers and artists in all forms. As the conversation has evolved, certain words have cropped up again and again: Beauty. Mystery. Presence. For this issue, we invited a handful of…

The Psalmist said, “Lord, how shall I not call thy name?” The hills were green with his wonder and the birds flew filled with singing, so he sang, “Lord, how shall I not know thee upon the mountain when thy sheep are the great stars of heaven, thy horn the sun and moon, and all…