Carol Christ

My Grandmother’s Clocks

Four handsare spiralingaround a circlebreaking timeinto increments. Resonate bells call up dark nights,independentlyushering in a seasonwithout need to harmonize.Percussive voicessoothe an achingheart overflowingwith grief.Chimes intoningthe inside out. Recently I gave myself an expensive gift. I had my two beloved clocks cleaned and oiled,… Read More ›

God’s Womb by Joyce Zonana

The first time I came across the phrase, I thought I must be making a mistake. “Que Dieu l’enveloppe dans sa matrice,” the passage read in French, “May God’s womb enfold her.” or possibly, “May God enfold her in His womb.” His womb?