Lullaby

Let the holy man shear the sheep.
Trust the blade. It conjures sleep,

and drugs the ewe upon her knees,
whets the rite of intimacy.

She lets him cut away her robe.
In each bronze eye revolves a globe.

The shutter flash collides with light.
The farm is trussed in mist tonight.

This poem appears in the February 12, 2020 issue.

Many have criticized the new film’s twist on its hero’s origin story. I found it powerfully resonant.

The fight to protect Oak Flat is not just about a single holy site. It is about recovering our bond with the land.

In their new books, Mike Cosper and Jeff Mikels critique evangelicalism from within. Do they go far enough?

According to the radical theologian, “God’s essence is in our hands.”

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