Posted in Writers

Things end…

Sacred Touches

**Image via Facebook

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Posted in Writers

Behind the Wall

Source of Inspiration

Can I share
an unacceptable view
one that is contrary
to yours or must I only speak when
we are in agreement?

Can I sit comfortably
on the sidewalk
with one who lives on the street?
Can we talk
openly about why
I live in a comfortable
house while he is dirty
hungry, friendless, homeless?

Is my judgment
a wall behind
which I hide
too afraid to love
and be vulnerable?

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Posted in Writers


Wildly and Dangerously Free


Just this tonight, while I wait for the stars ………

a poem by Joyce Rupp

Old Maps No Longer Work  

I keep pulling it out –
the old map of my inner path
I squint closely at it,
trying to see some hidden road
that maybe I’ve missed,
but there’s nothing there now
except some well travelled paths.
they have seen my footsteps often,
held my laughter, caught my tears.

I keep going over the old map
but now the roads lead nowhere,
a meaningless wilderness
where life is dull and futile.

“toss away the old map,” she says
“you must be kidding!” I reply.
she looks at me with Sarah eyes
and repeats “toss it away.
It’s of no use where you’re going.”

“I have to have a map!” I cry,
“even if it takes me nowhere.
I can’t be without direction,”
“but you are without direction,”

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Posted in Writers

The Unbroken!


The Unbroken
There is a brokenness
out of which comes the unbroken,
a shatteredness
out of which blooms the unshatterable.
There is a sorrow
beyond all grief which leads to joy
and a fragility
out of whose depths emerges strength.
There is a hollow space
too vast for words
through which we pass with each loss,
out of whose darkness
we are sanctioned into being.
There is a cry deeper than all sound
whose serrated edges cut the heart
as we break open to the place inside
which is unbreakable and whole,
while learning to sing.

~ Rashani Rea

Art by Tamara Adams 
Text & image source: Rivers in the Ocean

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