Wampanoag Woman
by Katy Whittingham
The Wampanoag Woman in Winter
Onset, MA
by Katy Whittingham
The Wampanoag Woman in Winter
Onset, MA
by David Bowden
David Bowden writes and performs for non-profits, activist movements, and youth conferences around the country. David is married and living in Oklahoma City, working as the Executive Director of the non-profit Give a Goat.
by Robin H. Lysne
So this is what it’s like
One moment fear
the next vastness.
Goals cease to be goals
Instead a star-filled night
fills me.
Star Woman
you are me now
as you are every one.
No fear
now love
no contraction now immensity
I am a dark night full of stars
Yet this is no night,
only shining,
no stars without immense space.
This spot called Earth
one elegant teacher of each
jasmine flower
every scratch of
bird to its
flea bitten wing.
Stop, look how pink is sprayed through the rattan shade
as the copper sun
flowers in the west
open to a single hum
a golden bell
calling one
to velvet
silence.
Robin H. Lysne is a poet, author of three books and a professional medium and intuitive. Her writing has been published in North American Review, numerous anthologies including the Harvest from the Emerald Orchard and in two of her books; Dancing Up the Moon, and Heart Path. Visit her website at www.thecenterforthesoul.com.
Editor’s Note: “The Golden Bell” originally appeared in Heart Path.
by Stephen Lefebure
The ones to come will have no need for prayer.
Their spirits will ascend like smoke at night
To track the constellations out of place.
They will understand this pain we share,
All this suffering we call all right,
As the sacred in its deepest trace.
Healing in some way we do not dare,
They will sew their wounds with starlight
While the atmosphere bleeds into space.
Whereas we can merely point and stare,
The ones to come will know how to ignite
Infinity in one intense embrace.
Poetry by Stephen Lefebure appears in periodicals and on websites of varying combinations of respectability, spirituality and coolness. It might also be found in the illegal lending libraries of Arabia, or at the pillar of Ashok in Nepal. A print anthology called Wild Song presents Lefebure’s poetry along with poems by famous people.
by Jim Price
I am given back to night,
cradled by soft curves in the Milky Way.
The new moon reins in darkness,
and I am free to dream the hidden Beauty,
free to bask in the shadows of spirits.
Companions of Soul unite!
We are like a constellation of stars;
mythic configurations connected at a distance.
Breathe out, like a bellows heating the sun.
Breathe in, the resuscitation of the mysterious.
Jim Price retired to Wisconsin almost three years ago, after a 30-year career in human services that included both counseling and administration. He has been published in Verse Wisconsin, Echoes, Bumbershoot, and Clutching at Straws. Jim has been a shamanic practitioner since 1985, and has practiced meditation since 1973.
by Ian Moore
Bubbles in my being form and burst
like soft drink fizz.
Wave like ambrosia pummels my psyche.
Honey bees drink from the eternal
and pollinate my persona.
Sipping on sweet savory soma
the Gods have provided leftovers.
Indulging in the indescribable
dissolving into cosmic dissolution
migrating from Maya
to the All Mighty.
Waltzing in wanderlust
I’m the conductor
for the symphony of the self.
An overture of awareness
bassy blasts from behemoths
rock my internal concert hall.
Observing from my psychedelic podium
Seraphim serenade serenity in D minor.
Ian Moore is a graduate of Penn State University, where he earned a Bachelor of Arts in English. Moore also holds certifications in creative writing and teaching English to speakers of other languages (TESOL). He has taught English in Busan South Korea, Bangkok Thailand and in the United States. He has also volunteered teaching photography to Tibetan refugees and at risk teens in India. Moore has published work for Transitions Abroad, Demand Media, eHow.com and several other online publications.
a summer solstice prayer
by Mindie Kniss
life-giving fire
pour sundrops like rain.
let us reflect your glow.
enlighten our path
as we flourish and grow.
let us drink in your heat
and eat from your hand
as we sway in the breeze
as you kiss our skin…
wrap us up
in light and insight
as we spin ‘round again
toward dark.
Mindie Kniss is editor of Awaken Consciousness Magazine and creator of Restart Your Heart. She contributed to the bestselling compilation, Wake Up Women, and is currently completing a memoir based on her experiences in East Africa. She holds an MFA in creative writing from Pacific University. “sun lust” originally appeared on Kniss Ink.
by Leo Babauta
“I never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude. We are for the most part more lonely when we go abroad among men than when we stay in our chambers.” ~Henry David Thoreau
You don’t need to be a monk to find solitude, nor do you need to be a hermit to enjoy it.
Solitude is a lost art in these days of ultra-connectedness, and while I don’t bemoan the beauty of this global community, I do think there’s a need to step back from it on a regular basis.
Some of my favorite activities include sitting in front of the ocean, still, contemplating … walking, alone with my thoughts … disconnecting and just writing … finding quiet with a good novel … taking a solitary bath.
Don’t get me wrong: I love being with loved ones, and walking with a friend or watching the sunset with my wife or reading a book with my child are also among my absolute favorite things in the world.
But solitude, in these days as much as ever, is an absolute necessity.
The best art is created in solitude, for good reason: it’s only when we are alone that we can reach into ourselves and find truth, beauty, soul. Some of the most famous philosophers took daily walks, and it was on these walks that they found their deepest thoughts.
My best writing, and in fact the best of anything I’ve done, was created in solitude.
Just a few of the benefits I’ve found from solitude:
There are many more benefits, but that’s to get you started. The real benefits of solitude cannot be expressed through words, but must be found in doing.
You start by disconnecting.
Take every means of connecting with others, and sever them. Disconnect from email, from Facebook and Twitter and MySpace, from forums and social media, from instant messaging and Skype, from news websites and blogs. Turn off your mobile device and phones.
Turn off the computer … unless you’re going to use the computer to create, in which case, shut off the Internet, close your browser, and shut down every other program used to connect with others.
The next steps depend on which of two strategies you use:
1. Holing yourself up. This can be done in your office, by shutting the door and/or using headphones and the calming music of your choice. If possible, let coworkers know you can’t be disturbed during a certain block of your day. Or it can be done at home, by finding a quiet space, shutting the door if you can, or using headphones. The key is to find a way to shut out the outside world, including co-workers or those who live with you.
2. Getting away. My favorite way to find solitude, actually. Get out the door, and enjoy the outdoors. Take a walk, find a park or a beach or a mountain, find a quiet coffee shop, find a shady spot to rest. People watch, or nature watch.
Other tips:
“I live in that solitude which is painful in youth, but delicious in the years of maturity.” ~Albert Einstein
Leo Babauta is the creator of Zen Habits. He is married with six kids, lives in San Francisco, and is a writer, runner and a vegan.
Editor’s Note: “The Lost Art of Solitude” originally appeared in Zen Habits.
by Ashley Morgan
I am Chaos
Transcending from that first moment
When One became a victim of a subjected extermination of attachment
Defining the world through a simple word
- Just a grouping of letters and sounds
Wrapped around a concept
When in its entirety is the utterance of death
I am death
Walking as the shadow of the living version of mankind,
Walking behind from the moment of conception
No form of energy or matter is immune
To the castoff from light in the formation of a new beginning
I am the beginning
For nothing can truly commence
Without a point of creation – a gateway into the emptiness
From which to use as a spring-
To rocket through space for a epigrammatic moment in time
I am time
The winding and unwinding
The tick and the Tock
Of a weathering grandfather clock
I am beauty
Surrounded in universal love
Untainted and pure
As a ray of pristine sunshine
I am a cup, outlined in gold
With an overflowing rim
This becomes my blood
– My essence once more
I am a particle of dust,
Which formed in unison makes the sum of man
I see with the eyes of humanity
I bleed the blood of karma
I am,
In my intimacy
A brief and fleeting glimpse into the truth
Behind the elucidation of
Life
Ashley Morgan has been producing poetry since the age of nine. Her poetry has been inspired by her love for quantum mechanics, astrophysics, astro-biology and seeking spiritual enlightenment. She is dedicated to discovering truth and teaching others about her findings. Currently, she is working on her first collection of poetry, Una Vita (One Life).
by Dean Miller
A second day of grey.
More rain; more solitude.
My senses are soaking up
what the droplets offer
nearly as fast as the thirsty ground.
Standing outside in the deluge,
its another chance to look within.
My system has been in overload mode.
Now the rain; a steady beat on my face-
A welcome respite,
a chance to learn, to wash away the fear.
To join the flowers of spring,
planting our roots firmly and deep
into the enriching soil.
That is where we find our strength,
the flowers and I;
to express ourselves on the next sunny day,
with confidence, beauty and grace.
Welcoming all who seek
what they think we may hide.
Only to find we truly are
what we appear—
And so much more.
Dean Miller is an FAA air traffic controller who writes a monthly on-line article for Elkhorn Fly Rod and Reel. TROUT magazine is scheduled to publish an article of his in the January 2011 edition. He resides in Loveland, CO.
