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Look Up! by Michael Escoubas I. Poetry bids us, look up every once in a while. Who would knowingly miss this roiling sky, the combination of colors, sun, and mist— the way the world seems to suspend itself in time— everyone holds his breath as if a diva is about to make her grand entrance on stage. II. Poets are all about their words— but even wordsmiths know that some things call for a reach somewhere beyond the visible arc. We are stunned by this moment that, like Paul on Damascus Road, shakes the soul to trembles— intangible redemption, life washed clean.
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