After Life (Edoardo Firpo Poems)
The tree that gave its fruits along the mountainside jutting out above the sea has withered this January. And now ...
The tree that gave its fruits along the mountainside jutting out above the sea has withered this January. And now ...
This is for Elsa, also known as Liz, an ample-bosomed gospel singer: five discrete malignancies in one full breast. This ...
Rushing from our watching in the fields by night watching over the sheep on the mountainside Going quickly, rushing to ...
Coming to the Christ-child waiting in this season on the mountainside in the quiet of the night in this wilderness ...
The hope of Isaiah of the promise to come the fulfillment in Jesus the Father, the Son God's grace poured ...
In his ministry, echoes, reflections, mirroring the savior's words the path that the Christ walked, living out the words proclaimed ...
In the words of the sermon, the words of love on the mountainside the seeds of the words, his actions, ...
Our pastor, setting the stage, the precedent, these days, these events, our times into their context, framing our thoughts back ...
He went away to pray in solitary places away from the crowds. Solitary places to find God peace, quiet spaces, ...
Beyond human comprehension, five thousand men, the women, the children fed with far too little, not nearly enough But there ...
I saw a glimpse today of that shining city on the hill, a city with the streets of gold high ...
The boy in the field, left to tend the sheep the youngest, least, last, alone on the mountainside He will ...
His life changed, over time like water shaping stone, carving the rock with the force of a torrent, the crash ...
In seeing Him, we see God in imagining the face of Jesus we get an image of God an approximation ...
The human Christ, the king on earth a servant, a sacrifice, after the transfiguration on the mountainside the prayers in ...
An exile in Babylon, first of the leaders, to avoid rebellion, later all of the people. A psalm of anger, ...
I saw a glimpse today of the shining city on the hill, the city with the streets of gold high ...
THE PUDDING MASTER OF STANLEY BASIN Tree, snow and rock beginnings, the mountain in back of the lake promised us ...
SEA, SEA RIDER The man who owned the bookstore was not magic. He was not a three-legged crow on the ...
The night's drifts Pile up below me and behind my back, Slide down the hill, rise again, and build Eerie ...
I close my eyes and there it is a concrete walkway leading out of a small village hugging the sides ...
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