Skip to main content


Showing posts from January, 2013


“Poetry is what happens  when nothing else can.”  ~Charles Bukowski~ In some of our darkest moments, that’s all we can do: Breathe and write.  We can then regain our footing and become stronger through that experience.  Even though we might be temporarily lost, we reconnect within ourselves by putting pen to paper and just breathing. Finding that inner sanctuary of stillness we can make ourselves whole once more. This poem is one of those fleeting moments of darkness when poetry was what happened when nothing else could. Photography by Brooke Shaden The Air Finds It Hard To Breathe Thick and arduous, my breath is stifled I stop dead in my tracks and gasp for sustenance My head spins and chest tightens. I am doubting myself again, every last part In this process I cut myself into little pieces Putting it all under the microscope and peering through. It all looks so ugly, isolated there in front of me In the darkness I forget the be

LOVE'S SWEET NECTAR by Jessica Mokrzyckl

There is something so holy and precious  regarding the names of God… Upon every tongue in every corner of the world vibrations in praise of a God who is universal rise up in devotion.  The names might differ, but they are all directed towards the same reality: Recognition of the Eternal.  I have found that in my case the names of God found in the maha-mantra draw my heart deeper into a realization of God and His infinite nature and begin to connect me to His love and towards the desire to serve and surrender to Him. Like an arrow, my mantra has buried itself deep within me.    It's as if an underground spring of freshly flowing water from eternity itself has been struck and now passes through me, nourishing my parched soul with its transcendental nectar.  I wrote the following poem after I had chanted several rounds of my mantra on my japa mala beads and went outside to walk our border collie in the gently falling rain.   I now no longe

ONLY LOVE by Cassandra Alls

This poem was inspired  after reuniting with an old friend after 20 years.  It was a beautiful reminder that no matter the time, distance, circumstance or beliefs, love is ever present.  Our minds may forget but our soul remembers the connections that never fade.  We are all connected in the most powerful energy of the Universe:  We are united and connected in Love. Only Love We’ve been connected all along, through many lifetimes and light years.   You've found me in each one, flying through the Universe with only your soul as radar. You don’t know where you are going, but your heart does.  When you reach your destination your heart, your soul, your Spirit explode with the energy that remembers.  There is a knowing even if the mind fights it. The Spirit is stronger, but you will not listen. We live in an illusion fighting through the distractions, ignoring the messages that eat away at our being. Pay attention my Love; it’s real, it neve


 Motherhood has changed me. It has taught me more than any other single thing - about Creativity, about Time and about Divinity... Creativity is very important to me. It is water and air to me. If I can’t create, I’m like a fish out of water and, even in the constant turnover of mothering days, I need time out, to paint and to write.  ~But, what I’ve also learned, is that  motherhood is quintessentially creative.~  Art by Kat Ward First, it creates a brand new life, then, it births brand new moments, perspectives, lessons. It helps us - parents and children - to see the world in new ways and to connect with the Creator, within and without. Motherhood has helped me to see all sorts of things in a new, Creative light. Then, there’s Time. The passing of time, the juggling of Time and the dawning realisation that Now is all we have. Now. Because every moment is Now. Tomorrow, today will be in the past and only “Now” will remain. One day, I will be old and my c


I do not believe I have ever experienced a holier cathedral than the woods while it is snowing…  I find snow to be both romantic and religious, gorgeous and glorious.  I feel like a child on a snow day from school and a traveler on a sacred pilgrimage all at once. When it is snowing, I can’t remain indoors; I am drawn to be in it. Vermont Snowfall   From a leaden desolate sky drift these weightless stars spun of air  and  water that disappear on touch so light I might have dreamt them up these gossamer prisms holy geometries. Though I cannot hold them they press one against the other lovers each to all until they tuck right into the sides of earth, like a starched clean sheet on a birthing bed. (Here is the actual inspiration behind the poem) Photograph by the author: Sheri Lindner Sheri Lindner , Ph.D., a former teacher of English, and currently a clinical psychologist, is also a poet and essayist interes

UNRAVELING by Melissa June

Unraveling is a poem I wrote inspired by string!  This poem begins with me as an emotionally weak woman with a lot of troubles in life, and ends with a discovery of my our heart's strength. In it I release myself on a downward journey, unraveling to set myself free. To land as no longer weak but strong!  May we all find strength within us, even as a result of our occasional unraveling.  Photographic art by Heather Evans Smith Unraveling Rope That Binds by Conceptual Photographer Brooke Shaden I am torn, mangled thread 
shreds entwined, firmly into a ball 
tears of rough fiber discolored red
 as I am cut, beginning to fall
Extracting the needle from within
 bleeding, to unravel all my pain 
I untangle, breaking off as I spin
 decimated thread, with sorrow's stain
Ravaged strands, fell to be free 
my weak twine, now unwound  
the knot of darkness once held me
 though no longer has me bound
 The despair that paine

CLOSING IN by Pranada Comtois

On my fiftieth birthday I was walking on the shore of the Atlantic ocean and spotted a diver in the water...  I immediately remembered my days of scuba diving off the coast of Santo Domingo when I was sixteen. The gulf of years between sixteen and fifty became pronounced, but even more poignantly, I realized that it was time for me to accept that I had passed through youth.  It was a stark, sinking sensation of moving from denial into an uncomfortable truth.  This is the first poem I ever wrote. I had never thought of myself as a poet, and the thought of writing a poem never occurred to me. These lines came out spontaneously. I felt quite awkward when my esteemed writing friend, a poet herself, declared me "Poet Pranada," but her confidence in me gave me permission to write other poems.  My relationship with my writing mentor has convinced me that each of us women should go out of our way to help each other find our voice and release i