Guest Post by Gloria Lionz
Seasons hold places in ones’ being; as do the markers we humans call ‘time.’ Though we’re eternal beings, as one who loves life and does all she can to serve it with tenderness and compassion, writing poetry is one of the most visceral ways my heart has learned to express those feelings.
Guest Post by RJ McBride
For forty some years I’d wandered in a half-awake, half-slumber state of consciousness all the while wondering why life had to be so hard and unjust. Over time, my collective experiences had left me a few grains of understanding. Today, I’ve accumulated enough grains of knowledge to maybe fill a small bucket. And who knows, come tomorrow, I may need a larger container.
But simply storing these grains of wisdom does little good unless sharing what has been learned by one’s endeavors. And yet, for all that such renderings invoke, there are moments when only the poetic voice speaks to what is truly in one’s heart and Soul. The poem that follows is one such example:
Guest Post by Anna Finch
At important turning points in my life, my inner guidance nudges me to write. Sometimes I doubt my words, but the nudges grow louder, and a theme emerges. Recently it has been about wisdom. I love to ask people what wisdom they have learned on their birthdays.
Guest Post by Riley Carson
I wrote a poem years ago, trying to capture the way Soul seemingly appears out of nowhere, entering into this world. Then, before you know it, it’s gone again. I forgot the rest of the poem, but one stanza stuck with me through the years. Here is the symbolism often associated to moths followed by the verse:
Guest Post by Riley Carson
Rumi was a renowned Sufi scholar, mystic, and poet (1207-1273) . His writings weave a mystic’s viewpoint with scenes from daily life into thought-provoking (sometimes thought stopping) ways. My poem was inspired by the following passage by Rumi, which captures a mind-bending viewpoint, and in a way that relates to some of my own mystical adventures. Rumi wrote: “You are not a drop in the ocean, you are the ocean in a drop!”
By Michael Avery
It was during a time when I was contemplating on writing an article about becoming an inner warrior many years ago that the lines of this poem flowed through. I soon realized that even the first steps upon the path of the inner warrior would be difficult. Why? Because the first person we meet when we step out upon the path is ourselves.
Guest Post by RJ McBride
“In Search of the Golden Road” is my term for the Journey of Soul as It works Its way through countless lifetimes of trials, tests, pitfalls and snares. Yet for all the hardships, wrong turns, and trial runs I’ve encountered throughout these past 81 years of my existence, the Sound Current of HU (the Music of Life Itself) has never been as clear, the Light of Soul never brighter or filled with Divine Love more than in this moment.
By Michael Avery
When we look back upon our memories, we often find gems of wisdom that we missed at the time of the initial experience. Messages from Memories fall into the category of Exotic Waking Dreams. A good example is “The Smile.” That memory carried its message through the corridors of time until I finally heard what it wanted to convey: “We can be happy under any circumstance.”
A poem entitled “Circus” held another special gem. Its messages are self-evident, but I will memorialize them in words at the conclusion of this post.
By Michael Avery
Our dear friend, Anne, wrote this poem called “The Flame.” It was inspired by a quote from a book called The Slow Burning Love for God: “The slow burning, long-lasting love for God will lead us home—eventually. The turning points of change, which are the tests of purification, bring balance and open the heart to more love.”1
On October 7, 2023, Anne set sail for “home.”
Guest Post by RJ McBride
For forty some years I’d wandered in a half-awake, half-slumber state of consciousness all the while wondering why life had to be so hard and unjust. Over time, my collective experiences had left me a few grains of understanding.
Today, I’ve accumulated enough grains of knowledge to maybe fill a small bucket. And who knows, come tomorrow I may need a larger container. But simply storing these grains of wisdom does little good unless sharing what has been learned by one’s endeavors. And yet, for all that such renderings invoke, there are moments when only the poetic voice speaks to what is truly in one’s heart and Soul.
SEEDS OF LOVE, a poem by RJ McBride
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