Drawing Down the New Moon

Samantha Weisberg The perpetual darkness envelops my soft tissue revitalizing me with lustful potency. I don’t fumble through the black. I ascend. Alone in the pitch, I release as my pulse drums down into the spiraling flame. Samantha Weisberg received her MFA in Writing from The School of the Art Institute of Chicago in 2007….

Panther Run

Mary Petiet The dreamscape panther runs, lunging agile, undeniable tearing at my eyes, my throat, my heart a young man moves to spear her, but I gesture him away I am merging with the panther as she rips apart my senses I am dying to the old as I am born into the new I…

hand holding a heart

Never Alone

Susan Morgaine I come before you To ask you how How I can heal Myself right now My head is down It should be held up I beseech you, my lady, To drink from your cup You have given me the sword Sovereignty is mine But the sword is so heavy The Tor I need…

apples

Avalon Rising

Sharon Smith The Trees said, “Avalon will rise again.” A spark flashed in my soul. Small flecks of heat. A warmth spread out within me, The embers fanned by the morning breeze Rustling through the canopy overhead Until the fire roared. Excitement? Uncertainty? Whatever could it mean? “Avalon will rise again.” The very idea, A…

The earth in front of the sun

Women of the World

by Francesca Aniballi We are a web of words A knot of arms A chain of holding hands Around Planet Earth. Women of the World We are seers in the dark Healers, creatives and wise ones Vision holders Carrying the fruits of our truths In our arms Rippling like the Ninth Wave Between the ocean…

ocean shoreline

The Water Remembers

by Rev. Rachael Wright I walk in sands Far from the land of my birth Far from the shores of the Holy Isle The fog rolls in and enrobes me “Welcome back,” it whispers For the Water Remembers These misty droplets, once part of the oceans, the rains that nourished the first trees and mosses….

mountains behind a large body of water

Llyn Morwynion

by Kate Brunner Once, She and I stood together, on a slate bank, humming with bee-laden heather. Once, She turned Her sharp skull towards me and smiled wistfully through bleached sockets. Once, I smiled back, my own sharp eyes filled with glistening dew drops of confidence. Once, I was ready, I was sure. Buzzing, dizzy…

close up of white horse face
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The Burden

by Jenne Micale How do we carry our burdens? You cast your eyes down at the horseblock marking the sparkle of gravel and then up, defiant, a mare tousling her mane as she runs free. You accept, take it upon your back as broad as a pony, the breath labored until you find the balance…