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As long as I struggle to float above the ground
and fail, there is reason for this poetry. . . .

                                     See me rise like a flame,
like the sun, moon, stars, birds, wind. In light,
In dark. But I never achieve it. I get on my knees
this gray April to see if open crocuses have a smell.
I must live in the suffering and desire of what
rises and falls. The terrible blind grinding
of gears against our bodies and lives.

-- Linda Gregg, from "It is the Rising I Love", The Sacraments of Desire: Poems

Read "It Is the Rising I Love" on Slow Muse

Linda Gregg

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Most of what can be said has yet to be said.

-- Michael Ryan, from A Difficult Grace

Interview with poet Michael Ryan

A Difficult Grace

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The shadow of a leaf returns to the leaf
Dancing
When I was a prince each moment
Ventured outward
Returning to me covered in green leaves
I had a country I had a plan
At the center of creation
Dazzling waters would rise and fall
Small birds would sing in the leaves and small
Hands gather mountains into a ring
O my estranged, my dearest, the world
Can only be safeguarded by shadows
Dying unafraid into real colors
In your sunlight

-- Donald Revell, lines from "Tithon" American Poetry Review 40:6