Vassar Miller (1924—1998) is another Texas poet of faith who served as the state’s Poet Laureate — in her case, twice. She is the author of ten books of poetry including her collected volume If I Had Wheels or Love (Southern Methodist University Press, 1991).
She was born with Cerebral Palsy, which confined her to a wheelchair. Despite barriers, she earned her BA and MA from the University of Houston. She also taught creative writing for many years at the University of St. Thomas.
Denise Levertov said, “I love Vassar Miller’s poetry for its qualities of density, stone-carved complexity, earned hardness, unsentimental compassion…. I salute [her] artistry and strength, and the beauty of her somber, profoundly experienced creations.”
The following poem is from her book Struggling to Swim on Concrete (The New Orleans Poetry Journal Press, 1984).
Morning Person
God, best at making in the morning, tossed
stars and planets, singing and dancing, rolled
Saturn’s rings spinning and humming, twirled the earth
so hard it coughed and spat the moon up, brilliant
bubble floating around it for good, stretched holy
hands till birds in nervous sparks flew forth from
them and beasts — lizards, big and little, apes,
lions, elephants, dogs and cats cavorting,
tumbling over themselves, dizzy with joy when
God made us in the morning too, both man
and woman, leaving Adam no time for
sleep so nimbly was Eve bouncing out of
his side till as night came everything and
everybody, growing tired, declined, sat
down in one soft descended Hallelujah.
*This is the third Kingdom Poets post about Vassar Miller:
first post, second post.
Entry written by D.S. Martin. He is the author of six poetry collections including Angelicus (2021, Poiema/Cascade), plus three anthologies — available through Wipf & Stock. His new book The Role of the Moon, inspired by the Metaphysical Poets, is now available from Paraclete Press.

