Journey of the Heart

  Dawn by Caroline Mellor And when you first stepped out into the pink blush of dawn did you feel the soft, dew-soaked earth rise to kiss your feet? Did you notice the trees  breathe blessings down upon you in luminous bundles of green and gold, how every breath of woodsmoke, mist and mulch filled your lungs like a cool river? Did you feel yourself attached somehow to each fading star of night like a puppet held on threads of silver light? And when the beautiful future which you dreamed of so long  down that hard broken road finally burst over the horizon and tumbled towards you like a wave —  Were you ready to catch it? *This poem appears in the author's debut, newly released poetry collection The  Honey  in the Bones: Poems to  Rewild  the Soul ,  Golden  Dragonfly  Press, Dec. 2022. For a copy of your own , click here.   Caroline Mellor   lives in East Sussex, U.K. with her husband and two children. Her writing has featured in Braided Way, The Green Parent, Women's Spiritua

  The Tug I remember you, rooted into the pasture, set against autumn’s breath as I walked by: your capillary arms reaching into life, bare and delicate, like morning and moss, and the soft consideration that beauty remains, even after all adornment has decayed. Yesterday, cawing winds sprinkled you with a murder of crows. Today, you beckon chirping cardinals from across the fence. The brevity of these black and red-feathered frocks hint at all those little moments that open and close  before us, like mouths of newborns asking to be nursed. Now, I want to shield you from winter, offer you milk from a warm breast, forgetting that this pause, is also necessary. I seem to forget many things these days, and wonder if I might also stand, unadorned, before cold and rain, my green gone, extended into life’s opacity with branches open—trusting I am inhabiting fields where I’m meant to be, syncopating with earth, releasing leaves  into the mist, when cold winds come tugging. (This poem first ap

Editor's note: This poem has received a nomination for the 2023 Pushcart Prize:  Rented Body by Janavi Held   I live uneasily  in my rented body wondering when the surrogate season  of shadows will pass. Perishable memories ­­ I have clutched  within this rented vessel; so many forsaken treasures  slip like blinded angels  through the atoms ­­ of my rented jail. They do not land on rock; they come from my bones  like a hurricane,  as my rented flesh is uplifted  by hunger and money  as the two parts  of my soul search for eyes,  for the waterfall,  for the forget-me-nots  to thaw the frozen atmosphere of tears,  for the pale cathedral of doubt  to replace its dead shadow  with a constant heart. In my rented body I climb titanic, twisting stairs,  casting my own shadow  on the torn remnants  of these days, and mortal fibers,  I’ve torn them  from my rented heart,  those gentle atoms living as the symbol of silence,  of forever,  of the Master  of all destroyed things. ~This poem ori

EDITOR'S NOTE: Today, we offer you a poem in honor of The Transgender Day of Remembrance which is observed  annually, today, on November 20th, as a day to memorialize those who have been murdered as a result of transphobia. The day was founded in 1999 to draw attention to the continued violence endured by transgender people, and as a call to replace it with peace and compassion.     Transgender Anthem by Jennifer Wenn   Since time immemorial, revealed or hidden, self-aware or suppressed, we have been here.   Through pain, confusion and joy, tearing at contrary, shrouding shells, we have been here.   We follow paths indescribable and incredible, yearning to shine forth our extraordinary iridescence, and we are here.   We are the convention-shakers,                   mould-breakers,                      trailblazers, and we are here!   We are not an illness                      or a theory                      or a debating point; We are flesh and blood, marvellous souls and childre

  Sisterhood by Tara Anand Sis, how I wish you'd been with me Through the trauma and adversity; Knowing you and I were one Together we would have overcome The family strife, the pain, the shame The lack of love, the lies, the games; Had I had you by my side It could've possibly turned the tide, I may have walked right off that stage Instead I went into the cage. Sis how I wish you'd been with me Through my months of maternity; To hold my hand, and stroke my hair When it all just got too much to bear; 'Time to celebrate' they said When I just wanted to mourn in bed. . .  My career, my life, my carefree ways You'd have gotten me through those days. Sis how I wish when I was five You had come into my lonely life— To play and ride the swings with me Act silly, laugh and shout  in glee; But while God had other plans for you Here's something I really never knew I've been hoping to find you to this day - In every woman who has crossed my way. Tara Anand is a C

Slow Down, Mind          by Vidya Chetan   We drift faraway from old ideals:  Have we lost our core values? This world runs behind wealth virtuous qualities seem obsolete.  Searching for  something , we tread unknown paths, sans concern for others.   With our gadgets, day & night: Connecting with far ones,  while snubbing those close by. Engrossed in this materialistic world we forget our own caretakers. Respecting elders—obeying them— has become a rare scene. Inconsideration and apathy empower us, our thoughts machine-driven, overindulgence in sense gratification slowing turning us into zombies and slaves.   We can’t live without our gadgets  but could manage without parents. Time spent with parents, siblings, friends: nothing but mere dreams now. We hurriedly meet and leave them.   Smart phones dumbing us down: having forgotten to play, read a book, chit chat with neighbors. Endlessly tied down to the gadgets, our brains on non-functional mode. Feelings of inner happiness lost. S

  That Space by Carolyn Chilton Casas Asleep with the senses awake— that liminal space between  drowsiness and dreams where  the energy takes me time and again.   Minutes move slowly,  life at a standstill, nowhere  to be, nothing to do, only  inhale and then gently exhale again.   In a pocket of unknowingness from which creation springs,  I let go  of what I think I know,  unlearning and looking again.   Saying yes to uncertainty, trusting in the mercy  of a guiding source— a wink of assurance that  there’s still time left to get it right.                             Photograph by Elina-Sazonova Carolyn Chilton Casas   lives on the central coast of California, the perfect landscape for a love of nature, hiking, and playing beach volleyball. She is a Reiki master and teacher, whose favorite theme for writing is about ways to heal. Her stories and poems have appeared in  Braided Way ,  Energy,   A Network for Grateful Living, Reiki News Magazine, Touch, and in other publications.   You