here you cannot help remembering King Lear, blind, forsaken on that hostile, wind-lashed heath of Hagar crouched beneath a dry shrub shielding her son’s parched skin against the mid-day sun’s belligerence herself against despair
stones grow in the desert the universe shrinks prize and priority diminish desire ebbs to fit uneasily inside two starkly naked words:
Support the Christian Century
The Century's work relies primarily on subscriptions and donations. Thank you for supporting nonprofit journalism.