POEMS ON FEAR AND FAITH by Carolyn Chilton Casas

How Not to Take in Fear

Find a quiet path to walk alone.

See how ocean waves roll

with the pull of a capricious moon,

and the ancient oak holds

ground in a thrashing wind.

Fling praise up to vultures

circling overhead.

Bow like nature to the coin

tosses of circumstance.

Consider a tree for a confidante.

If the journey leads to water,

count on faith to help you

swim safely to the far shore.

Climbing a tall mountain

is a great remedy for fear;

stride upward until you feel

the generosity of Mother Earth.

New muscles will evolve gently,

proving you are stronger than any fear.

How to Know Faith

Before you can know faith,

you must bear a message

that knocks you to your knees,

endure a shock that takes breath

away, like diving into raging ocean

waves on an icy winter’s day,

although the blow may bring

a blessed numbing, amputating

most sensation left within,

time will melt this fleeting shield

forcing you to make your way

toward the inconvenient truth;

then, benevolence is my hope for you—

offering up a budding faith, a light

to brighten even the deepest dark,

moments before the dawn.

Photography by TJ Dysdale

Carolyn Chilton Casas is a Reiki Master and teacher. Her favorite themes for writing are: healing, wellness, awareness, and the spiritual journey. Carolyn's articles and poems have appeared in Energy, Mujer Holística, Odyssey, Reiki News Magazine, The Art of Healing and in other publications. You can read more of Carolyn’s work on Instagram at mindfulpoet_ or in her debut collection of poems titled Our Shared Breath.

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IMAGINE A WOMAN by Patricia Lynn Reilly

This poem invites you to look upon yourself with loving kindness… Gazing at your own true reflection, you will discover that everything you have longed for “out there” is already within you! I invite you to love your creativity fiercely. Faithfully plant seeds, allowing under-the-ground dormant seasons, nurturing your creative garden with love and gratitude. In the fullness of time, the green growing things thrust forth from the ground. It's a faithful, trustworthy process. AND it takes time and patience. Blessed is the fruit of your creative womb! I invite you to trust your vision of the world and express it. With wonder and delight, paint a picture, create a dance, write a book, and make up a song. To give expression to your creative impulses is as natural as your breathing. Create in your own language, imagery, and movement. Follow no script. Do not be limited by the customary way things have been expressed. Your creative intuition is original. Gather

IMBOLC by Caroline Mellor

The inspiration for this poem came after I watched a magical winter sunset and full moonrise from the top of Firle Beacon in the South Downs... Unusually for me, I wrote the poem quite quickly and changed it very little before publishing it – perhaps the energies were working through my pen! Imbolc is the mid-point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. It’s a fire festival which I particularly love because of its associations with Brigid, the Celtic Mother Goddess of arts and crafts, clear sight, healing, inspiration and nurturance of creative talents – something which, through my writing, I am always trying to connect with. I also love Imbolc because, with so much darkness and negativity in the world today, it is a time for hope, potential, visioning and initiation. With love and blessings as the light returns. Photography by Chanel Baran IMBOLC by Caroline Mellor I am the dream of awakening. I am the returning of the night. I am the tough green

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I’ve had several days now of alone time… It is unusual and a gift that I couldn’t see until I breathed it. I have been able to watch the sun’s rise through the grey of dawn and smile at the flickers of frost melting on the waving boughs of evergreen. It’s unique to follow daylight as it traverses the tempo of a cat’s soft slumbering purr. Night comes swifter and the glow of candles and the flames of fire comfort me more than the steady stream of always-doing-more. As much as I resisted, I needed this break. I had no idea how much my body was trying to tell me slow down until the exhaustion settled in around my joints. My eyes swam in molasses. Heaviness of I-can’t-hold-out-much-long, walked me to the throne of my nest. It’s winter’s gift of self-nurturing and love. It’s been a quiet proclamation of femininity and a need for comfort foods. Lemon crisps and cranberry, white-chocolate shortbread dipped in tea; I felt a hint of being pampered without

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