Last week I definitely forgot to post a poem. This week, I'm hardly going to do better: I'm just posting a link. I found this on The Fire and The Rose the other week, and I liked it very much. It's by a poet who is not dead, so I'm breaking tradition already. His name is Christian Wiman, and I know almost nothing about him except that some of his work is beautiful. Read “Every Riven Thing” and “This Mind of Dying” on a page at the Harvard Divinity School website, and then pretend that you read them here.
“God goes belonging to every riven thing he's made.”
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