you

Think on the very làmentable pain,

Think on the piteous cross of woeful Christ,

Think on His blood beat out at every vein,

Think on His precious heart carvèd in twain,

Think how for thy redemption all was wrought:

Let Him not lose what He so dear hath bought.

–Pico della Mirandola (translated by St Thomas More)

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‘… Wounded for Our Iniquities …’

April 10, 2020 by Angelico Nguyen at 12:00 pm

From the Armadio degli Argenti of Blessed John of Fiesole, OP (Fra Angelico), c. 1450

‘… he was wounded for our iniquities, he was bruised for our sins….‘

Isaiah 53: 5

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Untitled

January 5, 2020 by Rufus McCain at 2:09 am

My oldest daughter’s moon reflects my sun.
My youngest daughter’s sun collects my moon.
The woven strands of stars undone
Within my mind begin to weave a tune
That sings around me in a tunic form
With threads of gravity and mystery
To shield my soul against the wind and warm
The wintry past with future history.

2 Comments Filed Under: pomes penyeach, you

Sig Line

November 17, 2019 by Rufus McCain at 5:38 pm

Martin Buber
Philosopher
Pronouns: I, thou

4 Comments Filed Under: me, you

Occasional Sonnet

November 29, 2018 by Rufus McCain at 9:47 pm

Sonnet for My Daughter on Her Birthday

Let me not admit November’s wild
Transition into winter’s dark, my child,
Could ever turn the light out in your mind
Or cause the love within you to unbind.
Oh no, you woke in autumn’s grip but kept
It at arm’s length until you walked and leapt
Across the calendar of time and thought
And showed me everything you found and brought
From icy mornings to the changing seasons,
From cold conclusions to the warming reasons,
To daughter me to father forth my vision,
To light a fire of love and firm decision
To love you always, always newly prove
That I will stay beside you, never move.