A voice transfigured in winter
IFirst Voice: I remember Your laughter Had many wings And thinking Your laughter was everything I imagined you Flickering on the hill Your face pale as feathers. But your laughter lifted you up Carrying you over the sea to where Silence overcomes all sound.IISecond Voice: On the third day I looked up And saw Christ eat A black apple With fire for meat Arms outspread under The dark sun His pale face Unscorched His right hand Held flames that fluttered With many wings.
J. B. Stump on God and science, Paula Huston on Bede Griffith and pilgrimage, Mark Schloneger on election-day communion.
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