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Showing posts from 2019

PEACE ENTERS MY HEART by Maureen Kwiat Meshenberg

Peace Enters My Heart

peace enters my heart
though I have touched-
the chaos of my living,
it sometimes wears-
on my soul,
I settle inside,
the sanctuary
of the season,
it clothes me in rest-
I come to greet my day,
with love-
reaching inside,
this quiet-
winter morning-
let it move from me,
songs that echo-
peace on earth,
it is from my heart-
a beginning is birthed,
I reach-
and take your hand,
we enter into-
our holy place,
of comfort and love-
of peace and grace.

Maureen Kwiat Meshenbergis an author and a prolific poetess. She is guided by her inner soul’s journey and her empathic musings about life. Maureen’s draws from her human experiences, bringing reflective, soulful thoughts of the heart and the shifts in life’s journey to her poetry. Her most recent work includes her own Facebook page calledHeart’s Calling where she currently reaches almost 3,000 regular readers. She also has her own website here. She currently hosts a monthly  sacred creative writing circle for women using writing prompts as a mean…


Christmas Called Me In by Cheryl Anne Maris
Christmas called me in To the heart’s quieter place Away from all work and worry And the intrusion of outer images
Christmas called me in To that space where I am free From the illusion of entitlement And the laughable notion of intellectual property
Christmas called me in To the Realm of the Infant Into helplessness and crying And the universal truth of vulnerability
Christmas called me in To the Hope already born To the ending written Long before the prologue wet the page
Christmas called me in To Love Uncontainable And the sustainable peace Of Its full foregone And future surrender
Christmas called me in To the tender seeing of the Midnight Clear And the gentle hearing of the Silent Night Senses bestowed upon the lovelorn and senseless
Christmas called me in To the cradle of the defenseless The Light of the World shining On, In, and Through Eternity, You, and Me. ~

Cheryl Anne Maris: As a very young girl, I discovered the magic of turning my observations and swirling tho…

NOTE TO SELF by Sarah Carlson

Whenever you feel
 that frosty tightness,
just breathe –
 through it, with it, 
around it, within it.
Warm your wonderful waters 
 simply by beholding 
the beauty of now, 
allowing archaic agonies
to soften and drizzle away.
Recognize that
your foundation is strong,
your flow genuine.
Though some shadows remain,
trust that you will attend to them
if need be.
Celebrate the gentle peace 
that cascades  through and all around you.
Relax into your
uniquely radiant truth.
Live –
be fully alive,
 enjoy the joyous rhythms
of omnipresent love.

Sarah Carlsonhas many pieces to her whole, as most of us do. Those pieces include: mother, teacher, daughter, friend, widow, sister, skier, bicyclist, hiker, coach, drummer, and poet. Sarah lives in the western foothills of Maine where opportunities to make connections amid the splendor of the rivers, lakes and mountains are plentiful. She began writing and combining her poetry with photographs of her experiences in the natural world as part of healing from the sudd…

GAZING INTO INFINITY by Irma Aguilar-Olivas


When you gaze into a woman's eyes...
prepare to cross the threshold
into the house of her soul...
it is there, where her strength and
beauty will greet you

In the light where a thousand flowers grow
you may want to stay forever...
within the sunrise & sunset of her gaze
wrapped in the arms of her magnitude
adrift within the ancient sea of yesterdays

her eyes reveal she is of passion,
enchantment & fortitude
the place where galaxies are reawakened

set-sail-forth into the depths
of her extended amplitude
your heart will sing
in the infinity of love unshaken.

Poetess, Irma Aguilar-Olivas, is a published Author of, Whispers Of The Heart: A Book Of Poetic Musings. She is currently based in Austin, Texas. Fluent in both Spanish and English, she has been writing poetry in both languages, since childhood. Irma's writing influences are expansive, but include both the seen, and unseen mysteries of life. Recently, one of her poems was selected for publication in the boo…


So woozy with a crush of gravity is this planet that it’s not enough to embark upon a year-long courtship we call orbit; Our earth TWIRLS at drunken speed, too lovelorn to care about sobriety in its attraction to a star.
And our sun takes notice, how can it not? Earth breathes sweet leafy breath to clothe itself in bridal clouds, Reflects the sun’s shine with its expanse of ocean to say You’re beautiful like this, and, in unfathomable vulnerability, Offers up all its stories with lifetimes of human beings.
With existential mystery like this happening— actually happening— how can our souls not go
(First published May 21, 2019 at
Cricket Baker is a novelist and blogger who writes on distinguishing between the Real You and the Pretend You. After decades of love for psychology and what she calls her ‘little awakenings,’ Cricket chooses reality over any belief and easily loses herself in wonder over the existence of anything at all. She’s figur…

CHOPPY SEAS by Anita Neilson

As I can’t walk far, my husband sometimes takes me on a short trip to the coast (we only live around 20 minutes’ drive away). Sometimes I’ll want to visit one of our favorite ‘tame’ beaches where we used to walk our two dogs when they were younger. I have such beautiful memories from those trips: our black Labrador was an incredibly strong swimmer and would relish jumping over bigger and bigger waves to retrieve a tennis ball thrown in for her; the younger dog preferred to paddle along the shoreline, less confident in the deep water.  Then it would be time to go home, with the car smelling of damp dogs, snoring contentedly in the back. Simple joy that puts a smile on my face even now. I can still smell the salt air, and the damp dog in car smell; I can still see the sun glistening like diamonds on the sea; I can still hear the occasional airplane taking off from the nearby airport and heading out over the sea to America; I can taste the salt on my lips; I can feel the sand ingress thro…

THE THINGS by Ulli Stanway

The Things
 by Ulli Stanway
The things that make you not fit in. The things that make you the odd one out.  Hold magic and wisdom within.  You see, what they think is weird, too much and indifferent.  Really is a blazing woman, standing strong in her own power and beauty. Full-Hearted. Untamed. Unapologetic, It is She, who Roars.  And She is you. 
This poem first appeared in Ulli Stanway's debut poetry collection, SHE ROARS.  To obtain your own copy, click here. 
Ulli Stanway: I am a poetess/writer/day dreamer, life lover and author of SHE ROARS. I live in Melbourne Australia with my beautiful husband. I love nature and I am a confessing tree hugger. I invite you to  visit my website "Heart Rehab" here, which I hope will inspire other kindred souls to follow their own dreams and skip down a path they truly enjoy. I believe in becoming your authentic self, become who you are with all your quirkiness, weirdness and amazing talents. We don’t need to have countless copies of the same stor…

FROSTING by Anita Grace Brown


i have a lot of love to spread around
its thick like white buttercream frosting
sometimes people taste it and thank me
smacking their lips, an obvious appreciation for the sweetness
sometimes people stare at it
stare. at. it.
as if they don’t recognize what frosting is for
and sometimes they actually say
blech! I tell ya
these people are
but I don’t say a word (except in my head, I have a few choice ones)
I just keep churning out fresh

Anita Brownis a content mother of two teenagers and wife of over 20 years, both of which she is grateful for every day. She began writing poetry in the fall of 2012 after a mini-breakdown cracked open her heart and allowed this newly found gift to shine through. Many months later, she is realizing the truth in the saying that ‘breakdown equals spiritual awakening’ as she is pleasantly shocked at how much more peace she has in her spirit and how that is reflected in her life.  Anita loves yoga, dancing, traveling, cooking, walking her …

STONE AND BONE by Elizabeth Kipp

Stone and Bone (Let’s Heal)

I’m made of
bits of stone
and bone
wisps of hair
and a little despair
I’m fueled
with fire
I breathe
with the trees
I dream
and scheme
I make my start
and my art
from the heart
and after a fashion
express my passion
‘cause if I don’t
grab onto
the now
I miss out
on living
and giving
and thanksgiving
I live in
this sea
of emotion
soft hands
of devotion
in rays
of the rainbow
sun and moon
I’m not immune
to the trials
and trivialities
before you judge
just what
you’re seein’ in me
try walkin’ a mile
in my shoes
I’ll walk in yours
let’s open some doors
see each other
for real
no longer conceal
let’s just heal
stand tall
for once
and for all.

Elizabeth Kipp is a health facilitator specializing in stress and chronic pain management, addiction recovery, meditation, and yoga. She is a best-selling author, certified Kundalini Yoga Teacher (RYT/IKYTA/Yoga Alliance), Ancestral Clearing Practitioner, Bilateral EFT/Tapping Practitioner focused o…

CHOOSING LOVE by Julia W. Prentice

Choosing Love
You choose, sometimes to lose
In the game of love
Seldom are there winners
So the sprint begins
Chaste kisses raining
On eager, trembling lips
To soft caresses
Or clasping hands
Walking together everywhere
Passionate loving,
Or heated climax
And thrill of victory
Soon gives way
To defeat at each turn
Words out of cadence
Stumbling club-footed
Tongue always in the way
Wanting to express
What cannot be?
So the race becomes a dance
Dashing becomes spinning
Whirling and catching
As we fall into each other’s arms
Bending gracefully
Then awkwardly we pause
Panting, sweating, waiting
Lose the beat, music dies
A slow death march ensues
And like the ballerina
Twirling in the music box
We start the dance again
Spinning, then winding down
Knowing full well
That it could be
The slow-dance or the fugue,
The last we lovers can endure
Before we separate forever
The race ended, no victory crown
Just regret, endless regret

ALLOW by Sarah Carlson

 Some clouds are stormy, some benign, some hard to read. And yet the sun has the potential to illuminate the edges of them all, given the right conditions. Just as our nearest star  facilitates the splendor of silver linings, so can we humans permit our  inner brilliance to radiate  from behind whatever barricades may be in place. We all want to, though the desire may be somewhat sequestered. No matter what fronts have blown through, our own exquisite uniqueness is there nestled within, ours to share when  we feel secure and right. And that we should - both feel safe and allow. The sun doesn’t hesitate. Why should we?

Sarah Carlsonhas many pieces to her whole, as most of us do. Those pieces include: mother, teacher, daughter, friend, widow, sister, skier, bicyclist, hiker, coach, drummer, and poet. Sarah lives in the western foothills of Maine where opportunities to make connections amid the splendor of the rivers, lakes and mountains are plentiful. She began writing and combining her poetry with photograph…


Having emerged into the spring and summer seasons from a winter of challenges and changes... ... I am feeling awash with gratitude for the constant love, companionship and motivation that Mother Goddess so graciously gives. Even the days when nothing seems worth striving for, she gently reminds me I have so much to be grateful for, have so many blessings, and a heart full of the knowing she will always lead me to my rightful place however winding the road may be.
Gratitude for Goddess
Rhea Ruth Aitken

Gratitude seeps ever from my soul

Wells and springs forth from within me

Erupts in tears, smiles and ecstatic screams

With a pounding heart and a soft touch

With the falling or budding of a leaf

And the crunch or melt of the snow

Seasons of sun beating on my face

And the wind whispering

Things I need to know.

There are not enough words

Not enough books, or poets

Or quotes from lyricists’ tongues

Or sighs from my soul to capture

My love of the Goddess

And my gratitude for her glorious gifts.

The way she tou…