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We make a thing we marvel
and learn to worry.
through the red glass of a prophet’s robe
makes us red.
We see the horse return the hour before storm
The thing we make
learns to marvel light.
We think worry is a robe
we can outgrow.
In the mirror we see our bodies without robes
The prophet marvels at the horse
This poem was one of the winners of the 2012 “Discovery” Poetry Contest.
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“Room, Room, Room, in the many Mansions of Eternal Glory for Thee and for Everyone” & “Publick Universal Friend Adopts a More Androgynous Appearance, Wearing Long Clerical Robes, Sporting a Wide-Brimmed Beaver Hat Outdoors”
Congratulations to Adebe DeRango-Adem & Simone Person!
Ursula K. Le Guin’s The Lathe of Heaven reminds us of the radical power of collective imagination.