Wednesday, September 17, 2014

If I let you look into my eyes, silently, there are many things I may allow you to see, 
but you must have the vision. 
Like other mythical creatures that have left their marks upon us all, 
there is a danger in the seeking you have asked for. 
You don’t believe that Medusa literally turned her lovers to stone, do you?
 What of those who were already stone-hearted? 
Did they crumble?

Alison Nappi



Monday, September 15, 2014

starting school

You have always been there
right by my side.
Your hot hand pressed into mine
it's imprint touching my heart
just like it was meant to be.
us.
together.

And today we part.

You placed a bird where I sit
made of paper and your fair hands.
How apt my love
as you spread your wings
and take your first steps away from me
and into your first day at school.

Fly my love,
go as far as the moon,
you will make it my darling
I am sure,
you were always meant to be amongst the stars.

Kate Kelleher


Wednesday, September 10, 2014





trust


Trust that soft waiting place
where you feel everything and 
nothing all at once
where your quiver is empty of arrows
and there’s nothing left to hunt


Trust in the path unfolding
even when you cant see 
that darkness contains lifetimes
its a bitter sweet aching mystery


Stretch open your heart 
take a deep breath
its time to trust in the birthing
its time to trust in the death


Elyse Morgan


to inner child

AN OPEN LOVE LETTER TO YOUR INNER CHILD | 
 by ALISON NAPPI

To the child who couldn’t understand
why nobody could understand.

To the one whose hand was never taken,
whose eyes were never gazed into by
an adult who said,
“I love you.
You are a miracle.
You are holy,
right now and forever.”

To the one who grew up in the realm of “can’t.”
To you who lived “never enough.”
To the one who came home to no one there, and
there but not home.

To the one who could never understand why
she was being hit
by hands, words, ignorance.
To the one whose innocence was
unceremoniously stolen.

To the one who fought back.
To the one who shattered.
To the never not broken one.
To the child who survived.

To the one who was told she was
sinful, bad, ugly.
To the one who didn’t fit.
To she who bucked authority
and challenged the status quo.

To the one who called out
the big people for
lying, hiding and cruelty.

To the one who never stopped loving anyway.

To the child that was forbidden to need.

To the ones whose dreams were crushed
by adults whose dreams were crushed.

To the one whose only friend
was the bursting, budding forest.
To the ones who prayed to the moon,
who sang to the stars
in the secrecy of the night
to keep the darkness at bay.

To the child who saw God
in the bursting sunshine of
dandelion heads
and the whispering
clover leaf.

To the child of light who cannot die,
even when she’s choking
in seven seas of darkness.

To the one love
I am and you are.

You are holy.
I love you.
You are a miracle.

Your life,
your feelings,
your hopes and dreams–
they matter.

Somebody failed you but you will not fail.
Somebody looked in your eyes and saw the sun — blazing — and got scared.
Somebody broke your heart but your love remains perfect.
Somebody lost their dreams and thought you should too,
but you mustn’t.

Somebody told you
that you weren’t
enough
or too much,
but you are
without question
 the most perfect
and holy creation of
God’s
own
hands.


Monday, September 1, 2014

I wake before the rest of the world stirs in order to snatch away those few quiet moments 
of the day where anything and everything feels possible, 
where dreams and desires merge on a horizon that is yet to catch 
wishes spoken from other lips.

Kelly Fielding


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