Christian Wiman: I Sing Insomnia

I sing insomnia

                          to the minor devils

prowling alleys

                         of my mind

loneliness’s lipsticked leer

                                            fear

no fix can ease

                         envy sipping bile

I make a lullaby

                           to make myself

into a sleeper

                      of the faith

awake

             my little while

alive

         without a why

                    --Christian Wiman, from Every Riven Thing

Two Lines from Wiman's "One Time"

(Image credit: http://www.canyondechelly.net/)

To believe is to believe you have been torn
from the abyss, yet stand waveringly on its rim.

                                              --Christian Wiman, "One Time" from Every Riven Thing

Christian Wiman

(Credit: http://imagejournal.org)

Lately I have been drawn to writing poems that deal with faith . . . and doubt. So, it was with deep pleasure and compassion that I listened to this Bill Moyers' interview with Christian Wiman, poet and editor of Poetry Magazine. Mr. Wiman speaks profoundly about faith, doubt, pain, death, and poetry, and I cannot recommend this interview enough. Take a listen.