Journey of the Heart

Lightning by Hafsa Mumtaz  Flashing in the nocturnal dark, Breaking the wintry silence: Like a messiah is a glittering mark Swimming in your heart like fluorescence; Like Zuko's redemption arc Becomes The Avatar's essence; Like a knight on a galloping horse Vitreous in the moon's slashes; Like a kintsugi would enchant and endorse The trivia, the imperfections of gashes In pots or marvelous flambé ceramic – Glistening light violet cracks balsamic. Hafsa Mumtaz,   aged 23, is an emerging poet and writer based in Pakistan. She is currently working on her M.Phil. in English Literature. Her works (poetry, and short fiction) have appeared in  Visual Verse ,  The Rising Phoenix Review ,   Women’s Spiritual Poetry ,  The New Verse News ,  Poetry Potion, Autumn Sky Poetry Daily, Terror House Magazine, Ravi Magazine, The Sandy River Review, Couplet Poetry, Corvus Review, and is forthcoming in Bewildered Souls Anthology: Volume I, by The Black Inks Publ...

  Not Anonymous by Ayala Zarfjian I see your drawing on the wall of block 27. An empty baby carriage for your doll. The doll with the light brown hair and hazel eyes. Wearing a mustard yellow dress  with a navy blue collar. What did you name her? Rebecca or Gitty, Shayna or Deborah. I will never know.  I envision you before your life was taken. In a lush garden, singing while you hopscotched as you embraced your doll. A vivacious child with a beautiful name and soft, delicate hands. Your hair swayed when you jumped and ran,  your spirit full of light. You are not anonymous. Your life is remembered. Your drawing displayed as testimony.  Your world ours. Your pencil lines etched in our consciousness.  (This poem originally appeared in A Corner of the World: Holocaust Poems for My Father by Ayala Zarfjian, Golden Dragonfly Press , Second edition, August 2022. To obtain your own copy, click here .)  Ayala Zarfjian  is   an Israeli-born American ...

Letting Go of Route 66 by Sharon Grau I want to drive all the way through Rt. 66- In all of our faithful chaos and romantic unpredictability, Like a discarded bouquet of aging roses, I want to breathe again, across the boundary lines- Through the desert of poems I’ll never share, and the bleeding words we’ll never speak, What I really want to do is lie underneath the ancient stars, where all of us were made, and just let go of Rt. 66, in a complete surrender to the never ending Sky. Sharon Grau:   I am a Licensed Massage Therapist who lives near the sea in Asbury Park, NJ. I grew up in the midland/central NJ area but in 2015, I made the choice to move closer to the Atlantic Ocean. Ever since I was a little girl I have been enchanted by the natural world; at the age of 12, I began trying to describe this enchantment through the world of words and art. My love for art and poetry continued into my college years where I took classes in painting, photo...

Life and Death  by Kalindi Dinoffer I walk the spiral path  stepping over  gnarled roots and grassy patches hand in hand with  Life and Death   They are my friends my guides my teachers  Fraternal twins  dual sides  of the same  eternal wisdom  I smile and greet them as old friends  friends I have shared walks with before and will share walks with again  My friend death gets such a bad reputation But who is death but the usher into life anew And life the usher into death returned  Each meaningless without the other  So I smile and weep and laugh  Hand in hand  with my old friends Life and Death  I walk and run and trip and fall and sometimes collapse on the ground  and don't want to get up And there my friends wait patiently  knowing they can only present lessons  on my walk not force me to embrace and learn them  that it's my choice  but they'll never leave my side  whethe...

  A Call to Share and Spead the Love by Tammy Stone Takahashi  Dear beautiful humans of the world , Here’s something every single one of shares: we are living through a time of massive transition.  Massive. Can you feel it? It’s hard. It hurts. Everything is shaking and trembling and we feel unsteady, unsure.   But the beauty of times of transition is that they contain the seeds of deep and lasting transformation. The past few years have absolutely shaken us to the core, haven’t they? But they have also inspired us to reflect on the life we have been living until now and the life we want to live on the other side of all this chaos and unrest. Reflecting leads to making decisions that feel good and aligned with who we want to be, and I believe it’s one of our great superpowers as generators of a beautiful future. I can feel this in my bones, along with a deep calling to help water and nurture these seeds of transformation until we are living in the new world of o...

  The Ocean of Time  is the first poem that I wrote in English, in 2002. I wrote it as I was looking at a picture of waves in the sea and my mind started to wander and dream.  The Ocean of Time  by Saranya Aey Senaves  Like a boat Seeking treasures in the ocean of time We have our eyes as guiding stars.  The compass is our own heart  Leading us in our needed direction. Sometimes we go outward for a while,  In our tempestuous infatuation;  So long as we know our goal,  We will end up beyond the storm’s reach.  Photography by Saranya Aey Senaves    Saranya Aey Senaves  lives in Nong Khai, a small town along the Mekong River in the northeast of Thailand. She’s run Hornbill Bookshop and Café for years, making backpackers, expats, travelers and locals feel at home with her personally-selected array of books, and delicious homemade food, coffee and smoothies. Her poet heart is always reaching out to expl...