A poem by Stan Raines The hill’s intolerably long and steep; I think myself a goat. Perhaps it’s a mountain Without the slenderest hoofhold. I don’t look long for the top: Pebbles, brown and brown, Strike my eyes Loosened by my crabbing hands. From time to time I imagine I am merely crawling, All fours [...]

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A poem by Stan Raines Here is the One Who Knows Building many mansions For those so soon to come. Their own longing is the spring That will bring them to Him, The One Who Sets Their Table. Troubled people they are In His Absence so long, Their fervent prayer is “Come for me.” “Come [...]

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