plays over stained glass
as I sink to my knees
before the God who made me.
My eyes fill when
I lift them to meet His.
We glow as
love burns a bridge between us,
and I am consumed
but not destroyed.
At long last,
I am home.
Maria is blessed.
My brother entered the seminary at 14, hungry for faith.
He came home wounded in ways we could see but not understand.
He lifted weights nightly,
until with bulging muscles he shoved his fist through a window
attempting to close it.
Something at least a surgeon could fix.
Margie Nairn is a retired nurse and emerging writer in Corvallis, Oregon, where she writes memoir, poetry, and silly limericks for her daughter.
“You can’t wear that!”
“It’s hot pink, and too short!”
“We’re going to church!”
“Jesus won’t mind.”
“But your legs. Everyone will see-”
“I’ll wear what I want, when I want.”
Elderly Mrs. Franks wore the dress to church, scarred legs and all.
Kelsey Josephson is an introvert who enjoys connecting with others through writing and mixed-media. She lives with her husband, two young children, and a very sensible cat. She can be found on Instagram.
Visiting a dark church, I notice a bowed head in the front pew, haloed with rainbows from stained-glass saints in leaded windows. I respect his need for peace and soulful prayer.
Quietly tiptoeing to the altar, a sidelong glance reveals his cupped hands radiating light, and that he is texting.
Viv Burgess likes writing, it’s the thinking that is troublesome.
His wife left us alone.
“I’ve never met anyone as good at getting people to love them as you.” Love in the like-like way. For the last four years.
They drove me home; his wife hugged me.
Four months after they’d officiated our wedding, my husband and I left church.
m.nicole.r.wildhood is a Colorado transplant living in Seattle where she is a fair-weather cyclist. She’s been a scuba diver and saxophonist for over half her life and currently writes for Seattle’s street paper Real Change.
He wants to choose a woman – not the other way around. But not being chosen infuriates him. One woman wants him, platonically. “She’s stringing me on,” says Paul.
He likes her but can’t stand her.
She can’t decide to leave the church. “She’s a nun,” adds Paul, “a great gal.”
Yveta Shanfeldová, born in Prague in 1957, is the author of two published poetry books: Night Jugular Shaft (Host, Brno, Czech Republic, 2006) and In Place of Sundays (MaPa, Brno, Czech Republic, 2008).
Father Simon found a note in the charity box that read, “Sorry, I took some money.”
He suspected parishioners took money, but they never left a note.
Weeks later, Father Simon noticed a note in the charity box wrapped around a five dollar bill. “Thanks. The lemonade business picked up.”
Martin Jaeger has been published or is soon to be published in several print and online magazines. He tries to create imaginative pieces that will intrigue the reader, who will then have a greater appreciation for writers.