I remember another John today: John Milton. He was born on this day in 1608, thousands of miles away from where I’m writing these words, and in a culture I can imagine, but only just. The birth of this child led to the creation of the greatest poem in English, Paradise Lost, and, to compare great things to small, to the faculty positions I have had at the University of San Diego and the University of Mary Washington (nee Mary Washington College).

In the summer of 2003 I was fortunate to hold a manuscript of his early poetry in my hands. I turned the pages and thought about the living hand whose writing I saw before me. I also thought about the life that writing had given me, and I gave thanks.

Happy birthday, John.