|
By Steven Searcy It is an ancient wound yet perpetually fresh, rubbed raw again and again-- to wake each day in a world where work never ceases and never fully succeeds, where whispers and glimpses of beauty keep us clinging to a hope that goodness could be real and lasting, yet the continual calamities, frustrations, and aches never allow a full certainty that anything will ever be all right in the end. How stuck in the middle we are, on this earth that we inhabit-- constantly drawn toward a bliss beyond what we now know, yet tethered to a hell that never seems to die, and we all stand, stumbling, unwieldy, straddling the chasm. Steven Searcy lives with his wife and three sons in Atlanta, Georgia, where he earns a living working as an engineer in fiber optic telecommunications. His poetry has been published in Ekstasis Magazine, Reformed Journal, Fathom Magazine and The Clayjar Review.
Steven's previous work on Foreshadow: Misjudged (Poetry, October 2022) Morning Prayer (Poetry, August 2022) Do What Cannot Be Left Undone (Poetry, September 2022) Being (Poetry, October 2022)
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |