Lighting Lamps, or Our Reason for Being

How we came to be is probably as complicated at least as how you found us. There's the short story: we had an idea and followed through. And there's the long story, which isn't even half over yet. If you're in for the long story, please subscribe to the site and check your email for our updates. For now, the plan is to post something new and edifying, just for you, weekly.

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Here, for your amusement, is a favorite poem by Emily Dickinson:

The Poets light but Lamps — (No. 930), by Emily Dickinson

The Poets light but Lamps — Themselves — go out — The Wicks they stimulate If vital Light Inhere as do the Suns — Each Age a Lens Disseminating their Circumference —