This week’s poem in the Catholic Poetry Room is by Michael Robinson.
Nights fall and mornings rise with miracles
No physics may describe. Though God should raise
To life the dead and cancel the decays
Of days or of millennia, though he calls
Wine from water and the high tempest falls
At his command to a light breeze that strays
Over the sea, a man disabled plays,
Runs, leaps and dances, yet the pinnacles
Of wonder come each hour a living soul
Awakens in a mother’s womb to whole
And true selfhood, unique though galaxies
Blaze and fade, mountains crash into cold seas,
Lost armies form and conquer, cities rise,
End, burn, and the world opens to new eyes.
Michael Robinson lives in Donnybrook, in Australia’s South West. He has studied literature and philosophy at the University of Western Australia, and philosophy at Murdoch University. He has published poetry in a number of print and online journals. He is a past winner of the Gwen Harwood Poetry Prize and finalist for the Tom Collins Poetry Prize. Light’s Horizon, a special edition of Studio journal devoted to his work, was published in 2015. His first full-length collection, The Tiger in the Vineyard, was published by Ginninderra Press in 2015, and his second, The Music of the Streets, drawing on his experiences working with homeless and at-risk young people and former prisoners, in 2017.