Author: Mark Nyman

“Peace be with you.” “And also with you.” Growing up Roman Catholic, I had always felt the liturgy to be mechanical and repetitive. As a kid and young teen, I never understood too much why we offered peace. To be honest, I was always socially anxious and dreaded the moment that service would halt, and everyone would start shaking each other’s hands and maybe having brief, casual conversation. I would quickly shake my sister’s, mom’s, and brother’s hand, and then put my head down, fearing someone else would talk to me or shake my hand. Fast forward a decade. I’m…

Spring, springin, springan to leap, to jump, to burst forth, Bursting forth light white pink flowers from tree’s branches, The first greeting as nature wakes from winter’s slumber. Flower, flur, floer, flowe, nestled next to nascent green leaves, Small pink red flowers hang like raspberries, ornaments for trees that’ve endured bare branches against cold wind chill. “See me thrive in April.” The trees whisper, “We’ve survived winter.” Blossoming time, height of life, glory and prosperity, the cherry blossoms fall to the ground, brief twinkling moment of efflorescence now past. Daffodil, asphodel, narcissus Rain floods from the sky, dousing the Earth, …

The six-headed beast sits perched on her rock, Scylla. Across from her, the twin disaster, swirling, the whirlpool, Charybdis. How is it that now I am drawn to the Arcana of Temperance? All my life, A Gay Christian, treated as an oxymoron, I try to balance the cups, in my hands as I tread through life, searching for a home or rock. Throughout this path, at times desperately and listlessly, I try to uncover and find love. A priest, had told me one time, “If you’re gay, you can’t have Jesus’ Love.” There, in my memory, one of the sneering…

In the budding grove of my desire he took me Before I knew about consent, he stole me away, here in this park. The green grass is now a graveyard of dead leaves. Autumn serves as Charon’s boat, docked in this park. I sat on this bench with an ex lover once, I looked up at the leaves and Thought they could be other universes, somehow localized in this park. Thin gray clouds cover the blue sky like cellophane, The light is pale and Aurora trembles anxiously over the park. George Seurat’s painting, “A Sunday on La Grande Jatte” captures…

Memory and Nostalgia, What fragile, bittersweet sensations that can flood us with dormant emotions that we thought we had long abandoned. Rummaging through old things, I found an innocuous item. A small string of fairy lights, A yellowing warm tone when lit. Small trinkets of the past hold power and sentiment that, within one ineluctable moment, bring us back to what we have lost. Last summer, these lights were in a mason jar Lighting up tables at my friend’s wedding, He was an old manager from work. I invited a dear friend as my plus one. A friend who I’ve…

My name is Mark. I’m gay. I’m a Christian. And I love Jesus Christ and believe Jesus loves me. I knew this statement would be too controversial for the nondenominational Christian church I attended for 6 years. I’d have said “been attending” if I decided not to leave. When I was 7 years old, my father died of colon cancer. When I was 15, I told my mother I was suicidal and gay in the same sentence. At that moment, all she heard was that I was gay. When I was 21, I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder II and…