We see God in the shapehe shows to us. For some, fire.For others, holy smoke, oil,a running river, sheepâ€™s crook,muscular right arm that holdsagainst the dark, the dread.It is the oddity of poetsto not see the world straight onbut at some slant, under the skin,behind the scrimâ€”a scurryof leaves, clouds. God speakshis presence in the wind.I sensed him even in the inkwarming within the pen beforethese words arrived.
Norman Wirzba on eating in ignorance, Amy Frykholm on evangelicals and birth control, Mordechai Beck on the politics of Israeli archaeology.
Luci Shaw, from Bellingham, Washington, is the author of numerous collections of poetry, including Harvesting Fog (Pinyon) and The Slow Pleasures (forthcoming from WordFarm).
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