What an incredible and irreplaceable collection. John Biscello has already earned his stripes with the first poem in his book Arclight. Biscello has that very rare quality of being a natural born poet. His use of words is so sublime and striking, it has the power to cast into shade, most other poets. Such is his radiance, I find the consideration of light for the subject matter of this book to be very apropos. Biscello understands words and language, his mind is vast and deep and he is able to mine the very depths and bring to the surface language that takes your breath away. It has been a very long time since I have sat quietly entranced by a poet. Usually, we dip and feel certain poems acutely but for the entire experience to sweep us into silence, where nothing we say in response could ever articulate the feelings produced, well that is rare. Biscello’s exquisite mind and vast imagination ensure this book is a journey you will want to take more than once. I found myself entranced by his capture and the vivid landscapes of his mind. The turn of prose and poetry interspersed with a sense that this is his only true language took my breath away and left me reeling with envy and respect for someone so nimble at playing poetry’s pipe. The poets ability to combine knowledge with emotional observation is often clumsy and self-conscious, but when Biscello writes about Ophelia or any other icon of old, he does so with the deftness of the masters who invented such icons, handling the past and present simultaneously through his linguistic ability to place words exactly where they should be. Biscello writes sadness with such a searing beauty that it is impossible to dampen the euphoria you feel upon picking up Arclight. Every edge of his work appears intensely thought out and at the same time, effortlessly fluid. Biscello is a bard of language and emotion, and it would not be premature to pronounce him among the finest living male poets of his day.