By Cara Amy Goldthorpe | Featured Contributor
Nothing that I have
feels like it is mine
anymore
because we have
transcended the
time, of material
wealth;
attachment to
possessions, and
physical
temporary
things –
By Leon Stevens | Featured Contributor
Stop. Feel that?
The warmth of the sun
The breeze on your face
Rain. It has its own unique smell
Feels like tiny punches when it lands
Wherever you are
There is beauty and wonder about
Even if seemingly insignificant
A smell, a color, a sight, a feel
There is always something to appreciate
Like cool grass under bare feet
◊
By Cynthia Cady Stanton | Featured Contributor
The well has run dry –
or so it seems.
Life has been wordless
in this season.
By Shalini Mandhyan | Featured Contributor
What is this
That tests my hopes so…
What is this colour in the sky
That repels and is so loud…
What is the rush in the waves
That seems to devour every shore…
What is this…this roar
That silently lurks in every corner…
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