Journey of the Heart

  Hallelujah to My Legs    It has been too long a stretch of days  that I’ve been thinking this life  is merciless.    Then this morning I remembered  I have legs.    I was using them to walk the trail, alone,  when my muscles tightened and I remembered  wrapping these legs around your body, around,    around, and my god -  I had to    bow down to touch them  to thank them  for reminding me that I do - I do    believe in miracles.    Natalli Amato is the author of the poetry collection   On a Windless Night.   Her poems are deeply inspired by Lake Ontario and the North Country region of New York State. Her work has appeared in the Great Lakes Review, Blueline, Peaceful Dumpling, and other publications. Connect with Natalli on her website, here or via Twitter .  *For submission guidelines,  click here. *

GAZING INTO INFINITY When you gaze into a woman's eyes... prepare to cross the threshold   into the house of her soul... it is there, where her strength and beauty will greet you In the light where a thousand flowers grow you may want to stay forever... within the sunrise & sunset of her gaze wrapped in the arms of her magnitude adrift within the ancient sea of yesterdays her eyes reveal she is of passion,   enchantment & fortitude the place where galaxies are reawakened Come...   set-sail-forth into the depths   of her extended amplitude your heart will sing   in the infinity of love unshaken. Poetess,  Irma Aguilar-Olivas , is a published Author of,  Whispers Of The Heart: A Book Of Poetic Musings .  She is currently based in Austin, Texas. Fluent in both Spanish and English, she has been writing poetry in both languages, since childhood. Irma's writing influences are expansive, but include both the se...

AUTUMN Lazy on the trees balanced in the sunbathed air flowing over grass like memory- soft gusts of chill and sweetness mix her palette painting sky crisp circled in clouds to offset the warmth: yellow, orange, red- one clap of her powerful hands washes millions of leaves onto upturned faces; overburdened, who glance- minutes here, minutes there- not much time to spare, to catch something of her indifference. Nannette Schweig Hoffman : Nannette was a fine artist, teacher and poet, who passed away on December 9, 2010 at the age of 81. She was a native of New York City and had lived in the D.C area for 40 years before moving to Virginia in 2002. Nannette received her B.A from Hofstra University, her M.A in English from Georgetown University, and was a Master Copyist of Fine Art at the  National Gallery of Art  in D.C. She loved children and had one son, two daughters and four grandchildren. (Her daughter-in-law hosts this site) It was Nannette’...

I am still in the early stages of coming to terms with writing haiku... ... though they have long pulled me in to their world of brevity, bright clarity, wisdom and naked, emotive imagery. I’m a novice! I read the works of Bashō and other great haiku poets, and am humbled by their brilliance, and inspired to live, breathe and encounter this world as I imagine they must have, to make my way toward insights and expressions such as these: In the cicada's cry No sign can foretell How soon it must die.   Matsuo Bashō Blowing from the west Fallen leaves gather In the east.  Yosa Buson Don’t weep, insects - Lovers, stars themselves, Must part.  Kobayashi Issa Though I love writing in almost every form, from the personal essay, to short stories and other forms of poetry, there is something that keeps me trying my hand at haiku. Doing so feels only like a great writing practice but a spiritual one as well (aren’t all our practices spirit...

I had just finished my final teach for my 200 hour YTT and was given generous kudos on the class... It was November first the Mexican holiday Dia de Muertos , but I had no knowledge of this and yet I intuited an inclusion of honoring all who came before in my opening.  Within minutes however, I was informed that the quality of my written final exam had been below par and I that would receive a diploma pending a re-do.  My teachers felt disrespected by my not having given full effort.  OUCH! I had worked on surrendering in humility to the ego's demands over the 7 months.  I even metaphorically washed their feet. But there I stood facing my inner demons and fear of failure. Where did I take this pain?  To the page.... Tombstone Offering by Katarina Silva Hallowing the Day of the Dead by Anita Brown heart wails bounce off dingy, urine-scented  walls spiders scrutinize and hold vigil as I lie prone bowels twist like fishtail b...

Lately, I have been consciously trying to spend more moments simply being in mindful awareness… I’ve also been consciously making more time for creativity. The other morning those two intentions collided leaving me with a strange dilemma. Thinking to practice some mindful awareness, I opened our back door and gazed out at the dove gray sky, emptying my mind and breathing myself into presence. The universe must have been feeling playful, because within minutes a murder of crows was raucously diving around that sky in full-throated caw. No matter, I thought and continued breathing. Then the words “my day begins with crow dance” floated into my mind with that tantalizing tingle I know means there are more words to come.   And, so, I was left with the dilemma. Pursue the poem, or risk losing it and stay in mindful presence? I chose mindful presence. The Universe chuckled and gifted me with the poem later that day.  Ravens by Emi Fujimoto Legacy by Tracie Nich...