Michael R. Collings

The Golden Chain

Paradise pendant from a golden chain 
opal pendant paradise 
swirling blue and green 
through white cloud streaks: 
golden chain gleaming on the breast of God. 

Refracted Visions and Future Worlds: Mormonism and Science Fiction

Although science fiction and religion both attempt to define possible or J probable future states, they often seem incompatible. Critics of science fiction frequently argue that including religion in science fiction vitiates the power of…

Southern Idaho Summer

I was six. 
I wheeled Grandpa’s milk cans out 
to wait like patient soldiers for the cheese truck. 
I strutted in a new red and blue 
corduroy cowboy suit. 

David and Bathsheba

When I slid the damask 
from its plastic sleeve 
to spread it on the table, 
the stain throbbed against crisp white. 

LDS Assumptions | Orson Scott Card, Speaker for the Dead, and Orson Scott Card, Ender’s Game

The only major LDS science-fiction writer, Orson Scott Card recently won the Nebula Award from the Science Fiction Writers of America for Ender’s Game (1985) and nominations for the Hugo Award. Speaker for the Dead…

Bodies

Weight — 
heavy weighting down 
of airier stuff 
in birth 

Baptism: As Light as Snow

Cool, waist-high, 
shallowerthanremembered; 
eight years ago, it seemed 
that I would float. 

Patchwork

The fields south of Salt Lake 
Must be old. 
From the air, in October, 
They lie barren, empty, 

Penetrating the Heart of Mormonism | Orson Scott Card, The Memory of Earth: Homecoming

The Memory of Earth begins the five volume story of the Oversoul, the master computer of the planet Harmony. For forty million years, the Oversoul has preserved peace among humans exiled into space by a…

Entire Unto Himself

Already cold and stiff by the time I arrived, 
It was a shallow shadow, gray against black; 
A collar of blood fringed its matted coat. 

Warren Travels With His Father

in the 
dense Montana heat, the BLM vehicle musty 
and smelling of oil, sweat, and age. 

Nestling

They hatched today. Last night 
when I peeked among the apples 
they were eggs, four, end to end 
among twigs and scraps and a twitch 

To a Cymbidium Orchid Blooming on December 25th

You must have burst surprised 
thrusting up your single spear 
so soon past All 
Hallow’s-Eve 

Temple II

An Act of Faith

Flat, oval galaxies float—indeterminately 
Distant yet distinct—above. . .glimmer and prepare
To fade into determinate darkness.