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    doorway into dark cellar

    Poem: Little Religion

    Christian Wiman

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    His little religion
    of common things
    uncommonly loved
    served him well.
    Especially in Hell.

    *

    When the sickbed sunlight
    banishes shadows
    like the noontime tin
    of the storm cellar door
    long, long before,
    he is the blaze
    it takes a man to raise,
    he is the stone-
    stepped dark a child
    goes feelingly down.

    *

    As if to be
    were to be
    by oblivion
    given
    and forgiven
    heaven.

     

     

    This poem appears in Christian Wiman’s collection Once in the West (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2014). Photo: courtesy of Ken Childress.

     

    sunlight in dark hallway
    Contributed By Christian Wiman Christian Wiman

    Christian Wiman is a distinguished American poet and former editor of Poetry magazine.

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