You are wrought of oceans—
not of mere water,
but of the hush between waves,
of tides that rise to the call of unseen stars.
Within you, the salt of memory lingers—
not sorrow, but the sacred trace of becoming,
gathered grain by grain
in the cathedral of your silence.
Still, you shine.
Even in eclipse,
your depths cradle light
the way night cradles the moon.
By Marija Eljuga | Featured Contributor
Living in London I cannot help noticing a few of the least fortunate of us, sitting out on the street and asking for help.
Do we give them the money or do we not? What good does it do? To us? To them? I have no suggestion as to an answer to these questions, at all. Except that we follow our own feelings as we choose to give or choose not to give. To support charities, to hand food or money directly? I don’t know.
Continue reading “You Are a Fellow Human Being and I Can See You”
By Cynthia Cady Stanton | Featured Contributor
The glimmers of light
are blooming.
The warmth of healing
is touching my skin.
A new day is dawning
for all to see.
A new day is dawning
for all to heal.
By Barbara Leonhard | Featured Contributor
⋅
The bandage torn
From new flesh
Releases wails
The wound still
Imbibes air
The scab hides
deep repair
Let it rest. Wait
In time the scar
Records a fate
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I learned that healing is a deep process. We may heal a physical wound, but to become whole, we need to heal emotionally, spiritually, and mentally. We need to dig into the old grout of our deep being. Moreover, we must trust help is available.
Continue reading “Broken Womb, Shattered Soul: Living with Infertility (part 3)”
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