{"id":11092,"date":"2017-03-24T03:00:57","date_gmt":"2017-03-24T10:00:57","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/admin.patheos.com\/blogs\/goodletters\/?p=11092"},"modified":"2017-03-23T23:47:09","modified_gmt":"2017-03-24T06:47:09","slug":"poetry-friday-loves-last-christian-wiman","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/goodletters\/2017\/03\/poetry-friday-loves-last-christian-wiman\/","title":{"rendered":"Poetry Friday: \u201cLove\u2019s Last\u201d by Christian Wiman"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<\/head>

\"\"<\/a>The spring equinox was on Monday. I am slowly seeing a flush of new life around me, like plum tree blossoms and nettles, while winter\u2019s dank decay is still lamentably present. Christian Wiman\u2019s haunting and tender poem \u201cLove\u2019s Last\u201d from his collection <\/em>Once in the West (originally published in <\/em>Image issue 81<\/a>) echoes loudly for me right now during this transition of seasons. Within his austere couplets, Wiman ponders the passage of time and recalls memories from his youth. The poem begins, \u201cLove\u2019s last urgency is earth \/ and grief is all gravity.\u201d As a poet who battled an almost fatal illness, Wiman reminds us of the spiritual guidance we can receive from our own lives, from our past selves. The daring and curious child he once was, slashing at bee\u2019s nests, shows Wiman how \u201cmystery mastering fear\u201d can illuminate the perpetual questions we carry. We are all able to start anew yet we are never that far from death and, in the in-between, may we all unearth a bit of hope and redemption.<\/em>
\n\u2014Jessica Gigot<\/em><\/p>\n

\n

\u201cLove\u2019s Last\u201d By Christian Wiman<\/a><\/h3>\n

Love\u2019s last urgency is earth
\nand grief is all gravity<\/p>\n

and the long fall always
\nback to earliest hours<\/p>\n

that exist nowhere
\nbut in one\u2019s brain.<\/p>\n

From the hard-packed
\npile of old-mown grass,<\/p>\n

from boredom, from pain,
\na boy\u2019s random slash<\/p>\n

unlocks a dark ardor
\nof angry bees<\/p>\n

that link the trees
\nand block his way home.<\/p>\n

I like to hold him holding me,
\nmystery mastering fear,<\/p>\n

so young, standing unstung
\nunder what survives of sky.<\/p>\n

I learned too late how to live.
\nChild, teach me how to die.<\/p>\n

\"GL<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n

Christian Wiman\u2019s newest book of poems is Once in the West<\/em>, published by Farrar, Straus, and Giroux. He teaches at the Yale Institute of Sacred Music.<\/p>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The spring equinox was on Monday. I am slowly seeing a flush of new life around me, like plum tree blossoms and nettles, while winter\u2019s dank decay is still lamentably present. Christian Wiman\u2019s haunting and tender poem \u201cLove\u2019s Last\u201d from his collection Once in the West (originally published in Image issue 81) echoes loudly for […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1081,"featured_media":11094,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3822],"tags":[65,123,341,3861,1948,1945,3668],"class_list":["post-11092","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-poetry-friday","tag-childhood","tag-christian-wiman","tag-fear","tag-jessica-gigot","tag-poem","tag-poetry-friday","tag-spring"],"yoast_head":"\nPoetry Friday: \u201cLove\u2019s Last\u201d by Christian Wiman<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"The spring equinox was on Monday. 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