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Showing posts from November, 2016

COME LET ME HEAL YOU by Anita Neilson

The restorative powers of Mother Nature are formidable…
The coast has always been a favorite place of mine to rejuvenate my flagging spirit. I grew up in a coastal town with two beaches—one busy and touristy, the other wild and deserted. You can guess which one I preferred!  
When writing poetry, my first instinct is to immerse myself fully in the feeling and then the words flow! In this poem I have tried to convey the sensations of the salt air on your face, sand in your mouth, between your toes and fingers, hair wild and unkempt in the wind; the feeling of expansiveness, of being just a small cog in the whole Universe of Oneness, of such enormity; the feeling of being nurtured, cared for, never alone. The natural world gives us so much.
I am now mostly housebound due to illness and am no longer able to access those quiet, wild places in nature, so I often take a few moments and re-visit a favorite place in my mind’s eye.  For example, I may recall a beautiful garden or beach from a pas…

LIGHT AND SHADOWS by Carolyn Riker

Four years ago, I submitted my first poem here...
I clearly remember my trepidation. It was a resounding self-doubt and a belly full of butterflies (all of which were wearing tiny squeaky blue sneakers). It was surreal as it was real. I ‘clicked’ send and away my poem went into a virtual world.
Little did I know, on the other end, Catherine would catch and hold and nurture my tender thoughts. I wasn’t exactly pulled together. My world was decomposing through a series of losses. Basically I was tethered by a thread no wider than a strand produced by the smallest silken caterpillar. She intuitively understood. I will never forget the kindness then and now. The handholding of sister to sister and a mentoring that was profoundly needed.
The poem I chose to share then was pulled from my ongoing journal. Journal writing is a safe place to expose my beliefs. It is a place where words hold each other and it gives me an introspective and meditative solace. In some way I felt that early poem, Song…

THE DISMANTLING by Sophie Gregoire

The end of the year is coming closer...
2016 has been an interesting ride, and as November energies, Moons and stars adorn our sky, we can already feel a relief and the beginning of a new era in our lives. As 2016 reaches an end and we slowly enter the Year of Genesis, each of our destinies can make History.

The dismantling has cleaned you out of the impure, sullied blood by Sophie Gregoire

Underneath it all Tonight, There is, at last The excitment for Sacred purpose.
We are found.
That voice So deep, insistent and persevering It rises from the basement of your soul, That voice She couldn't leave you at peace, Years and months of wondering She shoke you to your core,  Tore you apart Dismantled your life Because she knew, You're of the Sacred Blood.
You now stand White ground. Star-studded vaccum,  Gaping hole of light On this empty frame, You stand. Strong and wise, Seed of stars.
It's the passion for Sacred Love Dear Heart, That caused your dismantling. Such a slow, accurate and violent crime Of all you…

HOPEFUL SURRENDER by Zoe Michael

This poem was written a day before the powerful super moon in Taurus, this last November 14th…
It represents a twin flame, soul mate and lover whom I connected with on a heart, spiritual, soul and physical level. It is an expression of my total surrender to love and compassion, which was channeled from my higher self.
Sometimes our egos try to keep us deep seated in the past, attached to our fears and always questioning but I fully believe if we strip ourselves bare and come forward with raw authenticity and honesty to how we are feeling from a heart space, magic will happen and something incredible shifts around us. This is what happened to me. May my poem be a reminder to you, and all divine goddesses, that it can happen to you too, if you only remain truthful and never deny your love for someone special. 

Hopeful Surrender  by Zoe Michael
What if you took a moment to look back on our union; 
would you see happiness, feel love and hear passion like I do? What if you decided to switch from…

OXYGEN by Janavi Held

This poem comes from an unpublished collection called, Time I Am...
 The title comes from a verse in the Bhagavad Gita, or The Song of God. After going back to school and graduating in 2009, I was enjoying the freedom of writing without deadlines, and all these poems, reflecting on time, just poured out of me. The collection is divided into three sections: time and how it relates to nature, how time influences our bodies and our social circumstances, and the perception of time and how it influences our spiritual evolution.The collection also includes photographs. These flowers are from the island of Kauai and from Santa Fe, New Mexico.
This poem, Oxygen, is from the second chapter.  
Oxygen by Janavi Held
Absentmindedly my lungs take in oxygen and my fingernails grow and my heart circulates life through my careless limbs. I am entangled in a computer of flesh like flowers growing or vines finding obliging trees to hug and cling to. Bits of flesh are adulterous eaten by earthly time as eternity lo…

THOUSAND YEAR OLD OAK TRESS by Romana Anna Nova

Most of my poems are written as consolations to myself when I find myself in a sad or lost space...

But somehow by taking action and recording the words, they become an act of courage, a line of connection, where it's no longer about me. That gives me – my voice –strength. And the piece becomes something powerful, an offering of hope, a showing of way – not just for myself.

Art is an experience of profound communion if you have the wits to see that it's not you who bestows inspiration. To make art is to grow wings. To give meaning to live beyond mere survival. Though fighting for survival may be that which grows our heart muscle to be able to find that there is more to life than what the eyes can see.


Thousand Year Old Oak Trees
(Volume I) 
by Romana Anna Nova

Can a seed ever be sad
When it's been blown off far into the desert?
I think not
Because it remembers
The mighty woods it came from
It knows that it was once
A thousand year old tree
Among many
It is that tree, and all the ones ye…