Poetry

Spirit Walker

If you venture into the inner wilderness without a guide   Be certain you do not forget   Your reason map conscience compass and love garments   It might also be a good idea to bring a prayer flare just in case   And good company to brighten the way and...

Meditations on Bread and Wine

I.  According to Zoroastrian legend, Ahura Mazdao bestowed upon Zarathustra a remarkable gift. It came to him in a dream: a golden knife cutting open the earth. The plough. Agriculture, that is, is a...

New Poems by MargBouvard

HYMNS I think of Falah’s sister in Iraq who lost her husband, her four children, affectionate daughters, proud sons. I think of her empty hands, her empty house that is no longer a home, and I pray. I think there will...

Boston Requiem: She is no Hagar

Boston Requiem: She is No Hagar Banished, alone and left out in the desert to die, Hagar sat down far away from Ishmael, her son, and said ”Let me not look on the death of...

The Mnemosyne Weekly: Poem Eighteen (Harper)

Reuben, Reuben Michael S. Harper My selection this week is the powerful Michael S. Harper poem, "Reuben, Reuben," from the collection Images of Kin, which came out in 1977 and was nominated for a National Book Award.  It has...

She Beckons

All this time we have been falling at the feet of yesterday's shadows, while the spirit of wisdom stands beside us offering her hand.

Interview with Poet Hal Sirowitz on “Being Human”

We've published Hal Sirowitz's wonderful poetry in earlier issues of Tiferet. You'll enjoy this recent interview with him on "Being Human." Be sure to scroll down - there are two parts to the interview! http://www.riffraf.typepad.com/

Pausing Long Enough to See

I've been listening to reflections on beauty by Irish poet, philosopher and Catholic scholar John O'Donohue.  It feels as though each sentence and thought he shares is one to be relished, held close to...

My Robin flew away…

    My Robin flew away… That morning was different. That horizon with the twilight hue of dawn was colorful. That air smelled of freshness. I was up and awake from a dreamless slumber, with dizziness of new awakening and anticipation...

The Mnemosyne Weekly: Poem Thirty-Five (Millay)

Nana Édouard Manet Oil on Canvas, 1877 This week's poem, "First Fig," by the ever clever Edna St. Vincent Millay, is quite different from the other short poems I've memorized in that the others have had a...