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Writer Spotlight

Chimeka Garricks

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Nate Currin

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Shini Abraham

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Creative Writing, POETRY

Gather in your soul skin like folds of a silken skirt. Held close, fisted tight, loosen it in time while you eye the warp and weft of fine threads—each a strand of the cloth encompassed about you. Unfurl at your…

The Apostle’s Clock

Creative Writing, POETRY

I sit on the wooden bench in the dimmed room eclipsed by the tall timepiece carved by the hands of a German immigrant a century ago. An angel strikes the gong and wooden windows open. Tiny lights illuminate as Rock…

My Soul Cries Out

Creative Writing, POETRY

Evidence spills with each sunrise dispelling doubt and fear A promise of restoration says I was made for more Prisoner of self-imposed reprisal Hope evaporates in shadow Darkness swallows the light Wounds fester and breed Despite my inadequacies my double…

The Golden Calf has Stars and Stripes

Creative Writing, POETRY

A document of constitution – the tenfold decree, expression – an entreaty. Where is the altar for the stars, who is the deity of the stripes? Does the ensign desire sacrifice for salvation? I do not remember reading The Gospel…


Creative Writing, POETRY

Cresting a hill, you see it: above the fields and the tops of the walnut trees, low in the sky, very close, a giant hot air balloon, red and blue and green. And there’s a word spelled out on the…

The Wrong Wedding


Barb and I took a break one weekend and spent a day on the coast. We saw two bald eagles. We learned about a coastal flower called “pearly everlasting,” tufts of green with clusters of small, white flowers. Above the…

Artist Spotlight: Joshua Micah

Artist Spotlight, MUSIC

‘PARACHUTE’ REDEFINES CHRISTIAN POP September 10, 2016 Joshua Micah, an LA transplant from the northeast, is a bit of an enigma. In 2014, he released ‘We’re In Heaven’, a single that was a big hit in the social pop scene….

Words For Grief


You have found it difficult to write these last days. Not because of the usual culprits: fatigue, sickness, student papers. You have listened to so much more music, especially Hammock’s Departure Songs. You have listened to an interview with a…


Hand-Selected For You

What If My Nerves Were Singing

There are stages in the spiritual life. In the beginning, in the stage of Conversion, there are piercing insights and frequent joy. Everything makes sense. We have changed our lives and consolation rains down on us. But then, sooner or...

Unio Mystica

During Catholic mass in St. Xavier’s Church, the priest places a wafer, a flake of skin, on my tongue as coolly as smoke rings ejected from a murderer’s mouth. Their sacrament, Reshma tells me singing, drags them by the hair, or binds each limb to the bedposts, laid bare like the silvery bottom of a mango leaf drowned underwater, or with malarial kisses, marries them. This sacrament is the knobs in their fingers, knotted with the places buds have been snapped off at the knuckles, now the bloom’s about to break through like from rosehips. As Reshma sings, “Jai. Jai. Jai,” she confesses in her plastic chair beneath the chikoo tree, her sacramental victory rises like a heart-lotus flower, pale and mysterious, after sinking deep into the murky waters of the mind’s own hell, then, flowering as if to burst from the stem of the throat, and opening into a white song only the night lilies of Mumbai can hear.