Journey of the Heart

This poem depicts the changing scenery of the therapeutic relationship; ...to hold and be still in the constant landscape of the counsellors own self in contrast to the ever changing scenery, seasons and story of the client. Constancy by Paula Doran I am the land upon which Winters snow falls, Unnoticed and trodden, numb, unaffected, Pain laid unsheathed as the spring starts to thaw, This heart's ever hopeful to wear a new skin. I am the land upon which Autumn leaves become rotten, Which once had life, now ended, now dead, But nourishment lives with all that's forgotten, This heart's always faithful to beat once again. I am the land upon which the Summer sun scorches, Whose once swollen rivers run dry and to dust, Existence in stasis, be still with the forces, This heart wills the moment to beat its own drum. I am the land through which spring will awaken, The beginning of life full of beauty and newness...

Magic is everywhere when we look for it with new eyes and an open heart… I had lost the magic in my life a long long time ago. I was in a 30 year marriage where I willingly gave up pieces of myself to create an “us” and those pieces of me were clamoring to be let out and set free. My spirit would no longer allow itself to be denied. I loved my husband and family but I knew I needed more than I had been giving myself. My spiritual balance needed to be placed front and center. When I moved to my home in the country I had an undeniable knowing that I’d lived on this land in a previous incarnation. As Spirit began to make itself known more and more, I discovered a deep connection to the Angels and Faeries I never could have dreamed of or even suspected existed. Spirit was fully planted back into my heart and soul and now I celebrate it daily.   Last summer we suffered two major forest fires just miles from my home. One particular forest trail held magical faery commun...

This poem is about the gift of having a strong intuition… Some say I have a higher awareness enabling me to tap into a higher consciousness. I have always found comfort in writing, and when I wrote this poem last year, I was having rough time handling some awakening symptoms I wasn’t used to. After reading this I knew exactly what was happening. I realized that I am to use my heightened awareness to read and interpret others, and to share my poetry and personal stories, and to overcome any fears of failure of my own. If I try I have not failed. Yet, before this realization, I was afraid to listen to what my higher self was saying. Now, I know that I am here to help uplift inspire and empower others— especially women—to become aware of our intuitive power. Our intuition can lead us on such a wonderful spiritual journey, if we are willing and able to listen. It is a true gift.   Her Gift by Tara L. Alvarado He gave her a gift. Can she see? Does she know...

This prayer was inspired by disturbing current events... ...and by the stresses that erode our ability to be still and find the Holy Presence in every moment.  A Call to Perfect Kindness: A Centering Prayer by Deborah Beach Giordano Perfect Kindness, we come to You in prayer and gratitude. We thank You for this day, this hour, this moment; for the beauty it reveals, for the possibilities it holds. Bless us as we seek You, Gentle Spirit, in the air all around us: as we breathe in… and breathe out peace and calm. Guide us along Your holy Way, Gracious Lover: that we may walk with open hearts and faith-fueled courage, and pass, unharmed, over the waves of anger and hate. Inspire us, Radiant Wisdom, to hope, and to believe in all that is good, as we breathe in… and breathe out peace and calm. Strengthen us to carry You, Endless Compassion, in our hearts and souls and minds and de...

This little piece of writing is my documentation of one morning's struggle... It reflects my struggle on my journey of integration and transformation; letting go of old patterns and fears, and being benevolently guided into freer spiritual expression. Sometimes these things requite a change of wardrobe. :-)  Poetry  Instead by Cheryl Anne I changed my shirt four times this morning a little less restrictive with each stretch over my head strewn on my bed I have outgrown even cotton constraints Prayer beads jingle jangle in my skirt pockets some conflict remains but what once were rattling binding chains have become tinkling joyful gypsy bells I see Brigid smiling blessed and beguiling tugging at the habit of my fearful hiding harder to pull over the soul than the head And though not as I planned Today my Muse does demand I eschew homily for poetry instead. Cheryl  Anne:  As a very young girl, I discovered the magic of turning my observation...