Believing is not the same as Being Saved

Lisa Martins new poetry collection seeks the kind of lyric truth that lives in paradox, in the dwelling together of seeming opposites such as life and death, love and loss, faith and doubt, joy and sorrow. Here readers will find a range of moods, tones, and subjects, as well as both traditional and contemporary formsfrom sonnets to prose poems. This is a collection imbued with the light of an enduring, if troubled, faith. With its focus on spirit, ethics, and how to live well, Believing is not the same as Being Saved offers a tender meditation on the moments that make a life. Theres a way of speaking as if the difference matters, as if the road home is finiteeverything begins and ends somewhere, like your hand in mine, or how last light fractures in the limbs of pinewhile beyond my window, a coyote follows a trail into the dusk that only it can see. from "Map for the road home"