Author: stephen t berg

  Praise God in the swirling mass of shapes and sounds—this cosmic expanse of spiraling galaxies, shrouded planets, streaking comets, sprinkled and strewn...

  Let the heart be moved again:by the green hills, the grass whistles, willow huts, and pillow forts of our childhood—our spirits flaring through our skin...

  We bummed cigarettes from each other. Blewsmoke rings across the Yorkton Regional loading dock.Had nicknames for each other.I was Jake, you were Schnitz.We ro...

  For twenty-five years (according to my journal), I have started my day by reading Psalms. Every month, loosely obedient to St. Benedict, I make my way through...