Journey of the Heart

Those Who Tend the Fire                      ~ after a line by Birch Dwyer   Your falling apart magnificence , say the grandmothers who tend the fire just for me,  is what we most love  about you.   You were never meant to know it all, be it all, achieve it all, possess it all, you were only meant to be  the beautiful being that is you.   They are dressed in long skirts, as I have always pictured them, they surround me with a yearning for their child come home.   They tease me to not take life so seriously, insist that loss is  merely an illusion for my learning,   but they have also seen the joy I embody from each and every day.   She’s the one , they whisper, the one who holds our love in her heart and carries it forward into the future, the one who accepted our gifts. Carolyn Chilton Casas   is a Reiki practitioner and teacher...

  Into the Chrysalis   Into the chrysalis once again the quiet calm has come to take me   It whispers softly in my ear drawing me away from chattering smatterings   Never fear though I disappear I am right here hidden cleverly in the open air   With the winds billowing through me as I am like gauze like a ghost like a specter awaiting the awakening   Tis the season when those pieces fall together and the magic bursts forth from us and our wings unfold and fill with dreams and flights fantastic voyages   Copyright © 2017 Melissa Steffy – First published in Big Sky and Broken Hearts , November 2017 Brooke Shaden Photography Melissa Steffy lives in Maryland and had two children. She studied Marine Science as an undergrad and completed her graduate degree in Computer Information Systems through Boston University, but there is a whole other side to her. It is best expressed in verse, usually with a bit of rhythm, sometimes happy, sometimes terse. She loves...

    Imagine    Imagine to be a bird slicing air with wings.   Up up over that horizon soaring through clouds away from solemn earth.   Shining, shimmering   far above this sphere into  clear blue light.    Cutting through sky gliding over oceans eyes open all seeing.   Awake all day all night brushing rushing  against the four winds.   Imagine to be a bird.  Joan McNerney :   Joan's poetry is found in many literary magazines such as Seven Circle Press, Dinner with the Muse, Poet Warriors, Blueline, and Halcyon Days.  Four Bright Hills Press Anthologies, several Poppy Road Journals, and numerous Poets' Espresso Reviews have accepted her work.  She has four Best of the Net nominations.  Her latest title is The Muse in Miniature ,  available on  Amazon.com  and  Cyberwit.net *For submission guidelines,  click here. *

    THE VENUS WOMAN   A true Venus born of a bone arose From the remnants of time- delicate as a rose Yet immensely powerful when defeated Courageous and defiant as needed   A hidden mystery yet to be figured out, she was Dark and forbidden as a graveyard at times, she was Yet so smooth and inviting in luminous splendor A valiant fighter to claim equality for her gender   An incandescent face often misunderstood during the day Yet persistent to survive in the vast majestic milky way  Those narcissistic red kings at times tries to steal her light Each time she stumbles but holds her composure in flight   The majestic star one day- reached Zion's mighty gate pleasing the guardians with the most exotic serenade  For underneath her iron core was a heart of pure gold unvalued and unseen by the egoistic man of this world   There, for her patience - a choice was offered as a bonus To culminate to one brawny Hercules or remain as Venus with an aphori...

Whispers Of God Sitting along the river bank I watch the ripples of the Holy water Dancing to the sound of the rushing Rapids while crickets whistle a tune In the wind... I could stay here listening To the Silent whispers of God Blowing in the cool breeze. Sitting here by the embankment A rock for my chair to sit upon I meditate listening to God's whispers Talking to me... So beautiful God's nature here A God given gift to us all. Feeling God's breath upon my face.. I will stay here meditating Listening for God's words to fill my Heart, Soul, and Spirit... In the distance I can see Geese Pruning on a small island of itself. I am respectful of all God's creatures. Knowing I am Blessed to be  Living in this moment. Appreciating what God has shown me... Let us be silent now to hear the sweet Whisper of God! Dancing off the ripples of Holy water In the cool breeze... © Eva Marie Cagley   Eva Marie Cagley   was born and raised in Waterloo Iowa, where she spent most of he...

Flickering It’s small but it’s there That glimmer from the hidden Fire that burns deep in my Belly It tells me determinedly that I can do these things that I dream of and it’s not Idle dreaming, wishful nonsense Distracting me from Reality The nagging whisper that Refuses to be put out Despite naysayers and laughter Raised eyebrows that say Dreamer Smirks that say put it away The glimmer that refuses To be extinguished The magical light that Even as a tiny almost unseen Flicker It keeps on flickering Glimmering and will not Go out because the spark Is hidden away in my soul Untouchable. ©️AilsaCawleyPoetry2020 Ailsa Cawley :   I have written since I can remember, devouring the stories of Roald Dahl under the covers by torchlight. I have always loved fairy tales, myths and magic. A good deal of the things I write has some truth in it. Others, not. You may find my writings on my website  here , or follow  me on  Twitter  or  Facebook . *For submission guideli...

Water                                                  I would love to live Like a river flows Carried by a surprise Of its own unfolding. John O’Donohue     When life gets stuck in eddies and ebb is felt more than flow, I return to memories of water,   gently rocked in rhythmic waves I stroke  onward into depths unknown.   Water always soothes me, bestows peace of heart and mind,  along with answers from a bottomless beyond. ~ Bring Me   Bring me your sadness, your worry, your pain.   Together let us undam a river of energy, white and violet waters rushing over the boulders of your discomfort,   washing some stones  out to sea, eroding others  to a smooth sheen, rounded, more gentle to bear. Caro...

She is   But a phantom of imagination Dancing on a downy breath of a kiss Searching for her lost soul In the midnight moist mist.   Deep within the tangled jungle of her mind Looking for a story to rhyme She is out to spend a dime And get hooked in the story line.   She is but a phantom of imagination Dressed in purple velvet of condemnation She is sailing swiftly in the air Taking no one without a care.   She’s the keeper of your dreams All your childhood schemes. Caught up on the window screen Lost within just a human being…   She spies an indigo lake she straddles Along her ID she paddles She will do the battles With her earthly travels.   Sailing along on the crisp clear azure water She wonders around but doesn’t faulter Keeping he ID from the fodder Of her mundane minds border.   She is but a phantom of imagination Living long ago with fascination Kissing the indigo sky with lips of gold Lost within her soul and growing old…   © Eva Marie Cag...

Learning to Have Peace I came to the island a city lass Something clicked and moved Into a place An empty space I didn’t know was there But I started learning Some said the island hooked me But it didn’t hurt More like wrapped in nana’s arms Being told I’d found my peace With vast seas and Seas that crash or whisper I kept learning Many scoffed at this silly dream After all it’s life on an island Things are slower here Because everyone knows That to hurry makes you deaf To nature’s teachings And you never stop learning Never stop learning. ©️AilsaCawleyPoetry2020 Ailsa Cawley :   I have written since I can remember, devouring the stories of Roald Dahl under the covers by torchlight. I have always loved fairy tales, myths and magic. A good deal of the things I write has some truth in it. Others, not. You may find my writings on my website here , or follow  me on Twitter  or Facebook .    *For submission guidelines,  click here. *

Invisible Octopus    The reality of life  with the unpronounceable illness  Myalgic Encephalomyelitis is  hidden  and fragile   M.E. as Invisible Octopus  acting as puppeteer  keeping me upright  or making me stumble at will    inflicting pain  challenging my brain  its crushing weight taking my breath away   Rosie cheeks looking well  they say summer is coming happy thoughts will cure you   I live in a disbelieving world my reality  trivialized dismissed   My full time carers witness Octopus’ destruction  for others I simply disappear into the shadows   I am just one in this worldwide community of hermits where freedom of movement is no longer a right   Transcending gravity I fly among the birds Their beauty and harmony uplifting and strengthening    After a short flight  Octopus attacks Pinning me down  immobilised   each moment is a death  B...