Journey of the Heart

(Editors note: This is   National Suicide Prevention Week.  The poems we feature this week are meant to contribute to raising awareness toward this cause. All are welcome to participate) This thing I call Depression with a capital 'D' is no light topic, and is often taboo... So even more is the topic of suicide and suicidality, which plagues many with depression.  I started to talk to my Depression as a teenager, but only very recently have shared some of the writings of dark despair. This piece, written more recently, helps reflect on what Depression has taken, and how I must drown out its voice...banish it out of my head and heart. How I must reclaim what was stolen and find joy in it.  Always, please know there are those who have been there, and that you and we, we are not alone. Depression Lies by Julia W. Prentice It is a Liar first Whispering nasty stories in your head “You will never be enough” It ...

(Editors note: It is  National Suicide Prevention Week. The poems we feature this week are meant to contribute to raising awareness toward this cause. All are welcome to participate) Six years ago I touched the edge of wanting to live my last breath... My mind cradled the thought of suicide. The depression was so deep, it felt like I was drowning in unforgivable sorrow and I literally wanted it to end. It was when I was still trying to heal my marriage of 20 years and knowing the sinking and horrible feeling that my husband did not love me any more and wanted to be with someone else.  Though the pain was relentless, I was fortunate enough to have family and friends see it. I had to make a choice, and I chose life. I decided to take a soul quest to the red woods, a quest to find my passion for living and it came back to me.  If there is one thing I could share with you that you must know, the light of love is always with you, your soul holds the flam...

(Editors note:    In honor of  National Suicide Prevention Week , t he poems we feature this week are meant to contribute to raising awareness toward this cause. All are welcome to participate) This poem is about my fight through depression... I hope by sharing my Internal Battle it'll motivate and encourage others to keep on fighting as well. Internal Battle by Vishaka Aguilera The Sun battles the Moon each day Pushing his way into the sky But always falling back into the horizon Many of us fight this constant war inside We fight our own battles Others seldom see The troubles we face everyday That make our insides shake and rattle There's a war going on inside my head My thoughts are twisted and dark Yearning to see the light Searching for something I cannot find Hours of the day go by quickly While the nights drag on Leaving me with battle wounds and scars I grow tired and weak yet strive to fight on The...

Birdsong in winter is something that thrills my soul; the audacity of exposure and singing through the dark and cold... Especially in the early morning; to hear a bird sing out its determination not to wait for springtime sun, but to live its fullness even now; oh, what encouragement that brings me!  My family of origin was rife with life threatening, and life taking, depression. People who could not abide the dark and cold. From the very beginning of this life, some Great Grace imbued me with a song, which especially in challenging circumstances and seasons, makes me feel a great kinship with the blessed birds of winter. I am thankful to have inherited the Gift of feeling deeply, but I am also thankful for that Great Grace. Her song, I believe, has saved my life.  Songbird by Brigid Clare Oak There is birdsong beyond my walls this bright morning. In the dichotomy of a spring-worthy sun and deep winter chill; the warble and trill of Life...

This poem is about life and death, exhilaration and depression… I wrote it quite a few years ago and it is, in many ways, a sort of autobiography. A reflection of how, if I stop and listen, I hear the sound of Time, marching... And it is my own footsteps I hear, echoing through the years, from physical birth to physical death, my own footsteps, carving out new roads, new journeys, across my soul. Photography by Katerina Plotnikova I’ve written happier - ecstatic, celebratory - poems about this journey and these ‘deep’ moments. “Quicksand”, however, represents the no less valid times when the darkness descends and all I can do is listen to the footsteps, and try to keep on breathing, when to struggle is to sink and I just have to hope that my feet will find solid ground before the quicksand swallows me completely. We all have out own versions of quicksand in our lives. This quicksand, too, is a part of the journey to be embraced and valued. These times are pr...