Journey of the Heart

Today, we are excited to share with you an excerpt from the newly released  Under the Same Sky , by Carolyn Chilton Casas one of our regular contributors. Under the Same Sky is Carolyn's second poetry collection, and was released today with Golden Dragonfly Press .   Together in the Evening Light                     In the soft light  of longer evening hours, we sit down  at our rough pine table with warm plates of grilled fish  and steamed vegetables. I glance past my husband and see two deer lying on the grass— a doe, her eyes locked with mine, and her fawn, head twisted back resting on his shoulder as he sleeps.   She does not startle when I stand to bring  the butter, pour the wine; they are frequent guests. In a bougainvillea next to the window, a blue jay darts in and out, carrying twigs to knit her nest. Now she hops in bushes near the deer, the...

  Place by Sandy Rochelle    This is the most beautiful place because it touched his skin. When he laughed and cried. When he loved me and when he didn't. When blessings became tarnished. When the flowers in my hand were twice blessed. When the earth spoke to me. When the rivers swallowed me up and drank my tears. When I thought life was forever. When I found out it was not. Sandy Rochelle   is an award-winning poet, actress and filmmaker. She is the recipient of The World Peace Prayer Society Poetry Award--- And the President's Award for Literature. She narrated and produced the Documentary film: Art Watch, about renowned art historian, James Beck. Publications include: Verse Virtual, Dissident Voice, Wild Word, Lothlorien  Poetry Journal, Trouvaille Review,  Poetic Sun, Every Day Writer, Spillwords Press, Impspired, and others. Connect with Sandy via her  website here . *For submission guidelines,  click here. *

    Learning to Lie Still by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer It isn't easy. Good, then, to have a cat come lie in the curve of my arm with her full weight on my weight, her warmth against my side. If she purrs, so much the better. How could I rise and disrupt her low gravelly song? So I lie still. Awake, but not scrolling. Not speaking. Not running to fix. It comes to this—my great hope for learning to lie still is to become a cushion for a cat. It’s a noble hope—to lie still as a cat in the curve of my arm, still as a pool of daylight on the sill, still as the sun itself, holding the center as the whole world moves around it.  Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer  co-hosts  Emerging Form  (a podcast on creative process), Secret Agents of Change (a surreptitious kindness cabal) and Soul Writer’s Circle. Her poetry has appeared on  A Prairie Home Companion ,  PBS News Hour,   O Magazine ,  American Life in Poetry,  on   Carnegie Hall stage, and ...

  Morning Flow  by Carolyn Chilton Casas A soft crescendo of birdsong  heralds first light through bamboo slats, and consciousness drifts forward.   The things to complete are many, but experience has shown  the day ahead flows smoother with the practice of silence,  and I choose to give myself this time.   Please connect with me, make me a clear and present channel of love, light ,  and restoring energy; it is an honor bestowed, a gift.   Warmth seeps from palms and fingers, breathing slows and deepens, toes tingle with energy. A shift transpires— no longer any desire to move, feelings of being held and cherished.   I am loved.  I am love.   This is how we are meant to be. Carolyn Chilton Casas   lives on the central coast of California, the perfect landscape for a love of nature, hiking, and playing beach volleyball. She is a Reiki master and teacher, whose favorite theme for writing is about ways to heal. Her ...

T his poem encapsulates the essence of a trance-like feeling that one fuses into as one is bowing before Allah (S.W.T.) on a prayer mat. It curls from under and around the membranes of one’s heart as one connects with a Higher Existence that beckons your soul as you take a single step towards It. The word, ‘Sujood’ is a plural for the term, ‘Sajda’, which means to bow. The true art of expression begins when you feel that a Greater Power is with you (when not a soul is there for you), listening to you, as you bow to Him on the Canvas of Profundity – the prayer mat.    Sujood hush – darkness charges and comes to a standstill somersaulting into an ocean of Light, lashes wet like the bristles of a paintbrush, stroke the Canvas of Profundity here, I speak with my heart for my tongue feels too insignificant the darkest hour when all eyes smudge into a panorama of subconsciousness Allah still listens to me. In Sujood, you find yourself for the world crumbles under your feet as you gn...

These two poems, both titled "I am not a flower," arose out of my ever ongoing spiritual journey… I'm currently reading a translation of the Hindu text the Ashtavakra Gita as well as Thich Nhat Hanh's biography of the Buddha, Old Path White Clouds. I find both to be scintillating, stimulating explorations of what it means to be human and the eternal quest we are on for answers to our biggest questions. Both books have turned my brain upside down (in a good way!). These poems are my way of exploring those Big Questions, about the Self and non-self, being and non-being, the ache of suffering and the simultaneous joy of being alive. I think I'm beginning to learn that (sometimes at least) the question is the answer. I am not a flower by Dejah Beauchamp I am not the sun, gilt in fire, nor the changing moon. I am not a cat nor the bird it stalks but cannot catch. I am not a book nor a birthday cake nor the sweet tooth of a chi...

I have two nieces that I adore… They are playful and affectionate, and I love spending time with them. One day the eldest, who is nearly a teenager, said that she wished she were a grown-up. I can still remember thinking the same thing at her age! I told her that childhood only last a handful of years whereas adulthood will last the rest of her life and therefore she should really enjoy those carefree years.   It made me think of all the things that as adults, we have to deal with:  job deadlines, financial commitments, responsibilities and expectations! It made me long for the innocence of childhood, a time where we didn’t know any of this!! A few days later, I noticed that the words “A little girl” were bouncing around in my head, so I started writing, not knowing where this would lead me. By the end of the poem, I knew that I had it all wrong!! Childhood isn’t the age where we “don’t know” a lot of things. It’s the age where we still remember what we were ...