Love Is.... by Karen A. VandenBos

Nida Kurt

Love Is....

Love is the warmth that wraps

around sorrow and the taste of

your name on my tongue.

Love is resurrection and a vast

ocean of promise.

Love is the fire in the belly of

a star and the storm that flows

through my veins.

Love is the lightning in the space

between us and the thunder beating

in our hearts.

Love is the embers that continue 

to burn even beyond death and

the alchemy of poets. Love is nothing if not wild.

© Karen A. VandenBos

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Karen A.VandenBos

Karen A VandenBos was born on a warm July morn in Kalamazoo, MI. A PhD course in Shamanism taught her to travel between two worlds. A two-time Best of the Net nominee, her writing has been published in Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Blue Heron Review, Moss Piglet, Feed the Holy, and others.

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Between the Cracks by Karen A. VandenBos

luizclas

Between the Cracks

It was on that devilishly hot day

when the sun was an orb of fire

in the sky that you watched her

break apart the dirt and plant

seeds of kindness and all you

wanted to do was to patch the

cracks so the light could not

shine through.

I asked you why you would

want to shroud everything in

darkness and keep out all the

light but you had no answer.

Perhaps you did not know

that between the cracks is where

the laughter of the Goddess

resides and prisms of rainbows

spread their wings. © Karen A. VandenBos

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Karen A.VandenBos

Karen A VandenBos was born on a warm July morn in Kalamazoo, MI. A PhD course in Shamanism taught her to travel between two worlds. A two-time Best of the Net nominee, her writing has been published in Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Blue Heron Review, Moss Piglet, Feed the Holy, and others.

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Casting Shadows by Karen A. VandenBos

Connor McManus

Casting Shadows

In the hours before dawn she walks

to the edge of the shoreline, puts on

her grandfather's old slicker and sets

off in his fishing boat for the cove of

trees where the dragonflies hover.

With her hat at an angle she stands

like a silhouette against the serene

lake and watches the fingers of the

sun poke holes in the clouds. Dark

pools of shadow reflect against the

morning mist and the loon casts its

echo across the span of the lake.

When she sees her own shadow and

the one seated in the boat behind her,

she knows her grandfather has come

back for the one that got away.

© Karen A. VandenBos

Enjoy more posts by Karen A. VandenBos HERE.

Karen A.VandenBos

Karen A VandenBos was born on a warm July morn in Kalamazoo, MI. A PhD course in Shamanism taught her to travel between two worlds. A two-time Best of the Net nominee, her writing has been published in Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Blue Heron Review, Moss Piglet, Feed the Holy, and others.

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Even Rocks Break by Karen A. VandenBos

Alina Vilchenko

Even Rocks Break

 

I am weary, heavier than the moon.

I cry more than I used to and wear

a ribbon of sorrow around my heart.

Now holy moments seem more fragile.

I give myself permission to wonder, 

to unwrap what haunts me. I fill my

pockets with what shows up and let 

the fear of uncertainty be my guide.

When even the rocks break, I will 

soften and listen to their poems.

© Karen A. VandenBos

Enjoy more posts by Karen A. VandenBos HERE.

Karen A.VandenBos

Karen A VandenBos was born on a warm July morn in Kalamazoo, MI. A PhD course in Shamanism taught her to travel between two worlds. A two-time Best of the Net nominee, her writing has been published in Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Blue Heron Review, Moss Piglet, Feed the Holy, and others.

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Shifting Winds by Karen A. VandenBos

Matheus Bertelli

Shifting Winds

Raspy-voiced crows forage

through fallow autumn fields

the wind lifting their feathers

towards the north.

 

We collect acorns and apples,

gather fallen leaves and twigs 

in our pockets and build an

offering of little altars.

 

As night falls we sit by the hearth 

and measure the shadows, pausing 

as the chime of the evening church 

bells call the mortals to vespers.

 

When the heat of the fire dies we

stir the ashes, looking for a message. 

Finding none we listen for hope and

hear it whispering in the embers.

© Karen A. VandenBos

Enjoy more posts by Karen A. VandenBos HERE.

Karen A.VandenBos

Karen A VandenBos was born on a warm July morn in Kalamazoo, MI. A PhD course in Shamanism taught her to travel between two worlds. A two-time Best of the Net nominee, her writing has been published in Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Blue Heron Review, Moss Piglet, Feed the Holy, and others.

Follow Feed the Holy