A Rebel Yell
Dave Ely
BARFI
Hiba Kahn
Monkey Man
Luke DeJager
Adagio
Haley Marie Lipps
A half-moon dragging its feet
through a meadow lacking
abundance, these grey horses running
until they sound like apples falling on some other
acre, or these horses turning towards your approach,
your once outstretched hands holding bags of apples, this
adagio of their heavy exhalations, of hooves
clapping in the meadow
aeries full of cream white or spotted brown eggs
full of eagles, but we are not
afraid and it is not difficult for the place to grow
a heart and start pumping your blood through it; we’ll
age with the grace of wind
carving rock into canyon walls
© 2017 Haley Marie Lipps Published in Breaking Ground 2017
Awe
Richard Connolly
We stand in awe,
tell ourselves we are made
from the dust of Stars, or
chosen to live by a God who
breathes us into life.
We stand in awe,
watching a Universe revolve,
making us small by its immensity.
We yearn after the beauty of the Moon
and the majesty of the Stars,
but the stars do not know who they are
and the moon has no feelings to cast into
verse, and god does not know what it is
to love and not be loved.
Out of everything that is, was, or ever will be,
You alone are You, and there is no more
eternal validation than that which you have
by virtue of the simple fact of your being.
Majestic in your madness,
beautiful in your bitterness,
sacred in your sins,
the universe stands in awe of You.
© 2016 Richard Connolly Published in Breaking Ground 2016
