Monthly Archives: June 2019

The Restoration

Sweet Peace’s Prince, who once I did exile A traitor to my soul, has now returned To regal Restoration; to beguile My treachery, He chastised me, but spurned Me not; with kinder loving word He yearned To reconcile. My Parliament adjourned, To yield consented, what excuse have I To let my vices turn my soul…

Call for Poetry Submissions

As the new Poetry Editor at The North American Anglican, I plan to feature about one poem a week and gather the best of these together to publish in a slim volume around Christmas time. If you would like us to consider your poems, please send them to clintoncollister@gmail.com with the phrase “Poetry Submission” in…

I.M. , I.M.

north Louisiana On holy ground these woods reclaim There now remains one standing stone, The others fallen, name by name, A country graveyard overgrown. The marble, lichen-crusted, worn, By weathering time in time displaced, Tilts on a base by storms uptorn, With runner, web, and tendril graced. An angel kneels, with folded wings, While floating…

Pentecost, 2017

Lord, save me from this rushing mighty wind That beats me beyond belief — buffets, blows The breath from me till I can’t walk, can hardly stand, just Stumble. Its confounding force opposes my progress, slows My steps, outdoes my poise – Checks, chokes me, hurts, thwarts, throws dust In my eyes, Defies my tries…

Dragonlike Nature of Christ in the Incarnation

Metaphors of dragons to understand Christ’s humanity and divinity Compares to awareness of right hand Truth tied up in the Blessed Trinity Dragon could be destroying villages All the while human Junius lecturesHe’s oblivious to the destruction.We put God in a box with diligence And “natures don’t do stuff” he conjectures Emily draws the Yale…

Three Adams

Dali paintings, skulls and monsters, particolored wings, Cards and dice and portraits line the walls of Suicide Kings. Breathing shallow, still as rock, I’m trying not to blink. Virgin plains of ruddy skin imbibing jet black ink. Adam leans against my back and scribes a fearful face: An image of an image of the saviour…

Becoming a Prayer Book Family

Before we had children, when we had just started attending an Anglican church, I remember telling my husband that in the Book of Common Prayer there were words big enough and strong enough for all of life — birth, death, and everything between. I grew up with only extemporaneous prayer, where I would grasp for…

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