Journey of the Heart

Creativity is, I believe, a fundamental part of being Human, just as it's a fundamental part of being Divine… I think, perhaps, that it's here—in creativity—that the divisions and differences: the gaps between things are bridged, and everything meets as one. Life is full of mystery. Science and philosophy, art, theology - all contribute to our understanding of things. But whenever there are answers, more questions emerge. This is part of being, part of life - and that’s OK. Creativity, for me, isn't a way of solving the mystery, but of becoming a part of it - of dancing with it, of embracing and celebrating it. Through creativity, I can span the divides... And touch the Divine. Meeting Where pen and paper meet - or Sound and Silence, Day and Night, the trespassing of the Word into the Void, the tentative touching of Darkness and Light. In the seams and horizons, the fragile in-betweens, in the thin places where nothing's as it ...

My heart has been bruised by the sudden breaking of a friendship… When forgiveness is not even offered as an option, or grace released to bring healing, I feel so lost to my soul.   Life is but a brief moment of time here on earth: our journey is to touch each other with our light. So, if by chance dear friend you are reading this, know that I hold you in love, and in gentle peace. For it is through love and peace that our stories, our fear, our hurt, will be set free. Life’s Too Short life’s too short, to hold that battle- in your heart, the who wins- the who loses, doesn’t matter anymore. what seed of deception, has altered your- perception, has drawn your soul- from bringing, yourself to grace now. life’s too short, to re-open that wound- and watch it bleed again, to lose your gleam- and freedom from within- your self esteem, is oh so crushed- for you to hold, onto so much- to let it dim, the light of you- bring yo...

Tears are powerful things, and often symbolic… They’re also, frequently, a source of embarrassment and awkwardness, both on the part of the person shedding the tears and on the part of witnesses to them.  It’s been shown that the release of tears is physically beneficial. When we cry, irritants and stress hormones are released. Tears contain healthy antibodies and serve to cleanse the eyes. Tears, in other words, are necessary and helpful.  They also, often, represent a letting go - a reaching the end of the line, a metaphoric dying, before a re-birth or resurrection.  Tears are powerful and are a part of us, who shed them - a part that we set free to flow, and that lead us to renewed strength and better places.  So, cry. Weep, if you will. Don’t be ashamed. Let tears flow like rivers and, as the Nile creates a fertile, green valley in which civilizations have grown since time began, let the rivers of your tears nourish the soil of your soul. Tears ...

The inspiration for this poem came through a dear friend… Even if I had only ran into her on the street, I would still perceive her in this way for she is open: full in her beauty and presence. She is beautiful as an apple tree. Let the rhythm of these words tell about Tamara. She, An Apple Tree With affliction in her eyes she purely knows when we're off the Path. For with Secrets of the Play she is close by, and that's why her flow is laughter, kindness, and understanding. On and on she transforms, 'till we are One with Nature. (When is she more alive, in feeling us as lost or in seeing us as lucky?) Eternal is she, like Sanskrit and the ancient: fruitful tree, absolute in her greenness. "The Apple Tree" by Gustav Klimt Milijana Božović : I am from Montenegro, Balkans, Southeast Europe. I am 23 years old. I've been writing since childhood, mainly poetry. It was and still is my way of writi...

Everything seemed to be going so well in my life... ...and yet, there was still this stubborn feeling that would not allow me to completely live the success I was creating for myself until, during a spiritual session with my mentor, when the word shame came up.  It was as if the light bulb was turned on and I could see clearly how shame had become a part of my and my lineage's story. After much crying and releasing, I felt the urge to express what was going on inside and give voice to all the women in my lineage who have and had experienced the pain of shame.  Photo by Julie de Waroquier Unchained, Unbound, and Free I felt the shame Coursing through my veins Poisoning my being Contracting my heart A shame which I did not understand A shame that persecuted my freedom Leaving me in pieces The shame ran so deep And fragmented my soul Crumbling my possibilities And burying my essence I wondered how This shame so deep Could ravage my...

I wrote this poem with inspiration from Kuan Yin in mind... Goddess Kuan Yin's compassionate heart moved her to stay behind, here on Earth, rather than accepting Buddha-hood. She will remain here, she said, until the end of suffering of all beings arrives, and until we all reach enlightenment.  Bridge Maker For Kuan Yin Once upon a time there was a woman who loved with all her heart. She even loved her mud filled fingernails, the soreness of them that she bore. Life sometimes got dirty, but she built bridges anyway. Sometimes when hammering the nails while aligning the planks of wood she’d strike her fingers by accident, shout out, jump into a, “I hurt myself,” dance, then laugh and return to building. Sometimes we hurt ourselves, especially when trying to help others. Tis the role we women sometimes play. But she learned to step aside away from pounding her fingers, and continued to build. She looked back, saw...