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FROSTING by Anita Grace Brown

Frosting

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
ha!
and sometimes they actually say
blech
blech! I tell ya
strange
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
frosting



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
water
clay
bits of stone
and bone
wisps of hair
and a little despair
I’m fueled
with fire
elemental
soulfully
sentimental
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
forgiving
and thanksgiving
I live in
this sea
of emotion
soft hands
of devotion
wrapped
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
and
I’ll walk in yours
let’s open some doors
together
see each other
for real
no longer conceal
let’s just heal
ourselves
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

Allow
 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…

GRATITUDE AND GODDESS by Rhea Ruth Aitken

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…

WOMEN, YOUR SICKNESS IS OF A DIFFERENT KIND by Megha Venketasamy

Women, Your sickness is of a different kind!
“A woman who is starved for her real soul-life may look “cleaned up and combed” on the outside, but on the inside she is filled with dozens of pleading hands and mouths”.  ~Clarissa Este Pinkola~
To women who write to me , whispering that “I am sick”
KNOW that YOU are NOT SICK. WE do NOT DENY that YOU are SUFFERING. WE ACKNOWLEDGE the PHYSICALMENTALEMOTIONAL and PSYCHIC PAINS that YOU ARE going THROUGH Your SICKNESS is of a DIFFERENT KIND.  You have DRIED YOURSELF up from YEARS of NOT LISTENING to YOURSELF. Your INTERNAL RIVER is POLLUTED with taints that are UNNATURAL to YOU.
YOU are NOT to be BLAMED for YOU are BORN in a WORLD that  MOCKS your CURIOSITY calling it SPOOKY YOU are NOT to be BLAMED for YOU are BORN in a WORLD that RIDICULES your INTUITIVENESS calling it MENTAL YOU are NOT to be BLAMED for YOU are BORN in a WORLD that INVESTS in SHUNNING YOU from your TRUTH YOU are NOT to be BLAMED for YOU are BORN in a WORLD that NORMALIZES VIOLENCE f…

PLIANT by Victoria Lantz

Pliant

Push me up against a wall and watch me flower. I thrive in tight spaces, under rocks, and behind shadows. If you look closely, you’ll see I’m deliberately leaning into the confinement, allowing the pressure to mold me. I’m pliant enough to enjoy it.
When times get tough and I feel myself wanting to run, a small space deep within me gets excited. Whether it is a difficult situation, a challenging relationship, or simply an uncomfortable chair, some part of me recognizes a growth opportunity when I see it. After years of running from discomfort, today I welcome those feelings, knowing that I have an opportunity to grow. I may be called to change myself in order to accept the circumstance as it is or take action to change it. Either way, it’s an invitation to lean into the pressure and allow myself to be molded.
Loving Source, keep me soft and flexible for your sculpting.
(This poem originally appeared in Victoria's newly released bookEpiphanies & Stories: Meditations for Myst…

THIS LOVE by Laura Hornby Kutney

I often find my poetry inspired by unforgettable art, literature or music that captures my heart. 

Recently, while listening to Ludwig van Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9, I became curious about the history and story behind its creation.
“Ode to Joy”, a poem by Friedrich Schiller (with additions by Beethoven), sung during the final movement, made this the first choral symphony by any major composer. It is also widely regarded by many, to be Beethoven’s finest work.
Sadly, by 1824, Beethoven was reported to be completely deaf and off by several measures while he enthusiastically conducted this final symphony at its premiere in Vienna.
My heart broke when I read that the audience, gave multiple standing ovations, while waving hats and handkerchiefs. Although they knew he couldn’t hear their applause, they made sure he would know and feel their adoration and appreciation.
To me, classical music feels like a poetry of sound. It even comes with its own dictionary of rich, beautifully detailed and de…

WOMAN by Ayala Zarfjian

Woman


I discovered the crow’s feet
nestled by my eyes.
I forgave them
and accepted them to be mine.
I love that they exhibit a piece of my struggle.
Days I squinted in delight,
dark nights when weeping left me drained and numb.
I questioned the veins in my hands,
pronounced and deep,
then I accepted them
for all the hard labor they had done.
Hands weathered by love given,
days from dawn to dusk,
babies they had washed,
foreheads caressed.
I watched my white strands
residing in my dark hair.
I accepted them
for their resilience and beauty.
I challenged my mind
to battle the known,
and seek the wonder of the unknown.
I challenged my soul
to rise up
and embrace the woman I have become
and embrace the life I have been given.

(This poem is an excerpt from the author's debut poetry book, Second Chances: Poetry from a Sun-Kissed Life, released May 7th, 2019, and available by clicking here.)


Ayala Zarfjian, an Israeli-born American poet, is a mother, grandmother, survivor, and a lover of life. When Ayala is not wri…

OF JOY by Surinder Prem Kaur

Of Joy

Blessed gift I hold, of Joy to write with conscious breath and inner light.  Peace of body, mind, and soul complete,  hear in awe grandmother’s heartbeat. Stillness in internal bliss,  calm within, nothing amiss. Presence of the masters known - Gracious God, behold your throne.  Creation, beauty, earth and sky;  that we bear witness, sanctify. Words cannot truly capture our gift of senses. Be in rapture.  Grateful for each bare sole touch on sacred ground – it means so much.

Surinder Prem Kaur is an identical twin, single mom and heart-centered yogi. She feels called to write poetry when her heart is open and she allows stillness to be her anchor. This space is where she feels the divine music. Lover of the earth, the ocean, trees and sky, and all beings, Surinder Prem desires to walk peacefully on her path, welcoming all with harmlessness and compassion.

*For submission guidelines, click here.*

THE FEELING THAT COMES WITH A LOSS by Tammy Takahashi

That Feeling That Comes With a Loss...

The feeling that comes with a loss,
that this hole, this gaping absence
swallows, too, all that still remains,
so that the fragile balance whispers
its soulful last, before trailing away ...
and what then, is the work of recovery,
when you feel now, between worlds,
pieces of you bound to the departed,
where in the moment you'd rather be,
with its borders dissolved in the dark,
like you have entered your own dreams,
which no longer end, which relieves you.
But then, you sigh, or gasp, or choke,
and you are brought back to your body,
battered and fragile, broken in places,
but here, where you've always breathed,
where love first came to dance with you.
Here, from where the glory feelings arise,
here, from where all that you love leaves.
Bound to yourself, to your shaky breath
where all the promises can be fulfilled,
where, one staggered breath at at a time,
you can fill your body with everything
that exists around you, you can choose
what and how to be here, while …