Thade Correa is a writer, composer, pianist, translator, and teacher. He has studied at IU Bloomington, University of Chicago, and Notre Dame, where he received an MFA in poetry in 2013. He publishes his writing widely and his music is available online and through Alliance Publications.
In the moments just before dusk the light lengthens, lemon-gold, over the grass: swells, then billows flags of flame tearing in the wind, wave after wave of ochre and umber resounding on the shores of evening, and finally becomes a thing almost incarnate—the clear flesh of the orchid evaporating on its stem might be the opposite of this— and thoughtless you reach to touch it so it thins, fades, and is gone.
We began by viewing each other as enemies and ended up holding hands—a young college student and a broken soldier holding hands together in the brightness of early winter. I give his story to you now because it’s all I can do to relieve the heavy tenderness I still feel for him to this day.
In the story of Buddha’s death, his attendant Ananda kneels weeping at his side, face contorted in grief, golden robe darkening with tears. Ananda is… Read More »DOXOLOGY: THE FALLING LIGHT
“For Dan Dlugose” In vast sky’s expanse sun and moon circle round. Their journeys mark the flow of time. Glory be to you, blue sky—for… Read More »MILAREPA: SONG OF MEETING AND PARTING