GRACING THE ROCKS

Arts and Culture

Jan 26

My soul is full of giant glacial rocks,
And cold, deep-water lakes, and cheddar cheese,
And the best apples, towering maple trees
Spilling sweetness, storm-clouds come down in flocks.
The sun rejoices like a champion
To run its course, and from its burning heat
Nothing is hid, the psalm says—but my feet
Said otherwise, when through the snow I’d run
With bread bags in my boots. No palm fronds there,
No hyssop branch or fig trees. Christ reclined
At table, but our floors were cold, inclined
To drafts. We ate our apple pies in chairs.
Face of Christ in the Negev—for my sake,
Come grace the rocks that ring the Finger Lakes.

January 2022

Scott Robinson

Scott has one of those résumés that give HR people a migraine. He grew up amongst the glacial hills and lakes, and long, cold winters of Central New York. He has worked at Renaissance Faires, as, variously, an actor, musician, and a Tarot reader, and at one faire he met his wife, Allison. He taught college music for ten years, then studied to become an Interfaith Minister, in which he concentrated on hospice chaplaincy. He is a professed member of the Third Order of St. Francis, a religious order within the Episcopal Church. He has recently begun the study of Druidry, as part of his quest to "free Christ from his Near Eastern captivity." He has early onset Parkinson's Disease, which is making him less inhibited every day, God help us. He lives in Philadelphia.

GRACING THE ROCKS

LIGHT IN MUNICH

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