Skip to main content


Sometimes, I feel myself fighting a battle between the light and darkness within me…

It's as if there I struggle with selfish desires on one side, against divine, pure love on the other. When I feel this stirring within me, I call upon the Goddess, the Divine Mother, to help me with this fight. Though I sense that it all boils down to my own willpower: to resist that within me that is of lower states: darkness. 

Because, sometimes I find, that if I don't look deeper, the dark love looks sweet and inviting, but only brings bitterness in its wake, and as its consequence separation and destruction.

Sometimes this fight with darkness brings out despair, and I feel like giving up. But there seems to be a faith, or a hope, in my heart that I can tap into, and that puts me on my feet again. It is a sacred process, which I find to be extremely empowering and inspiring: the quest to find and cultivate within myself the pure, chaste love of divine origin.

The Fire That Does Not Taint
by Laura Boeva

A golden sky at dawn,
the creation breathes in
but our struggles go unseen
by all except the Goddess.

The fight for purity:
Detachment, but love
dying to something primitive
that by all accounts looks like love,
but is poison and bitterness in disguise.

Under pressure, a light appears:
the more overdue, the stronger
is the invisible hand,
its holy presence like
a silvery, comforting veil,
or moonlight making the air around me
luminous in the dark night,
snow crystals glittering like
the new understanding in my heart.

The mind is powerless facing these mysteries:
the mystery of the agony of repentance,
losing hope but not ceasing to look
for a stronger faith.
It’s as if the heart will not allow
my grasp of the light to loosen
just like it won't allow the breath,
the blood, the body to cease.

My mysterious Mother
Mother of Angels,
Mother of the Universe,
Mother of Creation
infusing this black, defiled body
bringing to life the ancient fire
in my atoms, the fire that leads
to immortality.
In the sacred darkness and prayer
you appear, you guide me.
I cannot avert my mind or heart from you
or the dangers will come too close to endure.

How easily I deny everything: fear and love.
But let me find a way of flowing
through the grip of fear
and into the pure spaces
where I may find love
that burns and consumes like the secret eternal fire
that does not taint.

Laura Boeva: From a young age, poetry has been a form of therapy for Laura Boeva, expressing pain and finding healing and a connection to inner wisdom through creating with words. She is most passionate writing about the sacred love between a man and a woman, but she also writes about spirituality and nature. Laura is on a long journey of healing, having recovered from an eating disorder years ago and still recovering from its psychological and physiological consequences. She lives in a small cottage in the Alps with her soul mate, her husband. She loves being a housewife, spending quiet time reading, writing, in nature, connecting with the divine through dreams, meditation, prayer, and growing spiritually. Her dream is to have a collection of her poetry published. You can read more of her work on her website here.

~If you are interested in seeing your poetry appear in this blog, or submitting a poem by a woman that has inspired you, please click here for submission guidelines. I greatly look forward to hearing from you!~ 


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

MY HEART SEEPS by Edith Lazenby

Courage is not only facing fear, but also looking past fear, to see what lies it tells and truths it saves...
Sometimes I sit at a computer in trepidation. The house trembles and I wonder what I will find. 
Truth is not a fact or a feeling. It may rest on love’s heart and walk with integrity. It may stand beyond humanity in ways we can only imagine. Truth can be solid as earth and fickle as wind. But a wind can know stillness and the earth can crack wide open.
Tonight I found a stillness in a crack and managed to balance there...

My Heart Seeps
by Edith Lazenby
I cannot hold on And I cannot let go. I walk a path I don’t know. I feel moonlight But cannot see Its orb midst The cloudy cold. My hands tremble. My eyes tear. My toes wriggle To grasp earth. I want to stand Tall in the light Yet fear shadows all. Inside I crumble Under the weight I cannot shoulder.

IMAGINE A WOMAN by Patricia Lynn Reilly

This poem invites you to look upon yourself with loving kindness…
Gazing at your own true reflection, you will discover that everything you have longed for “out there” is already within you! I invite you to love your creativity fiercely. Faithfully plant seeds, allowing under-the-ground dormant seasons, nurturing your creative garden with love and gratitude. In the fullness of time, the green growing things thrust forth from the ground. It's a faithful, trustworthy process. AND it takes time and patience.  Blessed is the fruit of your creative womb! I invite you to trust your vision of the world and express it. With wonder and delight, paint a picture, create a dance, write a book, and make up a song. To give expression to your creative impulses is as natural as your breathing. Create in your own language, imagery, and movement. Follow no script. Do not be limited by the customary way things have been expressed. Your creative intuition is original. Gather all of life into your inner c…

DEPRESSION by Veronica Carpenter

Here goes my vulnerability A heart on a sleeve The typical person who looks at me May not see the same me that I live with daily The mind in the air, swirling with possibility When the darkness rallies/gathers/swirls When I am left to solitude This paper-thin garb unzips Here comes depression          
No I don’t want to advertise So flash a smile Those who are close get to see Through the veil, it’s really not that thick Circumstances in life like to stab at the rib Stumble, fall behind the door Shut out the world Feelings well and weigh down Strength hidden deep in the core So deep that sometimes it’s forgotten Here comes the darkness My old friend Sweeping through my every move  Doubts, fears, un-named masked men Oozing like honey, sticking to everything
Patience is required to get on this ride There is a cycle but its pattern is unknown Slowly my gift will unwrap itself Stay on the path Coming back to that which never truly left me Just laid sleeping out of exhaustion from the fight Dormant in winter…