by J Christian Lawrence

Χαρις Σοι

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Latest Essays

Life as Motion

I heard many cries. But I couldn’t a single person see. Though the cries were so close. Before I could ask about this, Dante stopped, and bent his ear East. Then we heard a sound, not groan but melody, as of a Japanese flute – piping from so very far away.

Anger’s Slough

Now our boat’s journey across the slough, or swamp, had become very bumpy, and I thought that perhaps some rocks our path obstructed. But looking down taught the truth: Our boat bounced along shields, swords, bullets, wings, bursting flak, fishhooks, beartraps, all the weapons of man, and worst of all, men and women, of all kinds, warring in the water.

Sonnet III

In aspen woods there is a sacred space,

Which by the Bones I think the Crow had roost,

And there I took my craft: needle, thread, and lace,

And sewed Love’s idol. But not Cupid I’produced,