NEW WRITING

 

This is a section for new writing; it is selective. If you would like to contribute, send your contribution by email to newwriting@blackthistlepress.net . This section will not be changed until the end of February.

IN MY EYES by Lori Ann Day


Look in my eyes,

and you will see my heart,

Have no fear of love,

just take control.

Perfect love casts out the

darkness and the walls that

we hide behind.

Reach beyond the distance,

and take a hold of my love.

Stop dancing with shadows,

and making love to illusions.

Let me breathe life into your

aching heart.


Let the walls fall,

and I will be with you

forever and always.

Don't let love slip away.

Come out out of the darkness,

and into the day.


Think of me, and imagine

that I am before you.

Hold my heart gently next

to yours, and I'll start

opening doors.

Come on in, and walk on

through.

You are welcome to this

heart of mine, and all

the love I have for you.

All you have to do is try.

Just open your eyes, and

begin by looking into mine.


CHERRY DOVES by Anna Vidston


Barren

The cement driveway was hosed

with chemicals, made clean, stripped.

The lawn trimmed, weed-free.


Each hedge shaped into a

perfect square or rectangle,

by the man with a white face

and pale eyes

and a body foreign to sweat.


Blossoms were not allowed--

all plants were cut into angular,

neat shapes with his tools--

sharp and electronically powered for

maximum efficiency


And one day, in the still of winter

the man with the pale eyes left

with a woman who carried a pink, plastic briefcase.


The woman of the house

feared and railed against heaven

terrified by her sorrowful fate.


During her grief, the cornflower seeds tumbled onto the driveway

and dandelions went to seed beneath squared hedges

that began to grow--without benefit of trim--into flowers with purple petals

with a scent that magnetized the white butterflies


And in the spring of her grief

the woman of the house planted lavender, lilies, purple wisteria

and tall, proud birds of paradise that thrust their green throats toward sky.

She kneaded the soil and nourished the roots,

and the garden flourished with the blooms of her labor.


At summer's end, she looked toward heaven,

filled with a golden sun.

Satin-colored roses and cherry blossoms rocked

and rustled in the gentle hand

of a summer breeze; she was thankful for seed, for flower.

A pair of mourning doves nested on cherry branches,

and she praised heaven for bounty

as she kneeled among the blossoms of her garden

Rich.


MEDITATION ON THE BREATH by Steve Sachs

(with thanks to Marilyn Rosner)


I am the healing snake

Shedding the skins of my years

turning to devour them again

Reaping the nourishment of experience

My flicking tongue tasting the memories

Guiding my teeth to sever ancient choices.

Experience is not to be swallowed whole,

But reworked in the process of digestion.

The new scales of my belly

Are the old remade

The better to propel me

Across the sands of time

Until at last my tongue savors

The nectar of salt and fish

Upon the air.

Then I know this is no desert

Upon which I crawl,

But beach.

My heart sings

To feel my oneness with the sea.

SHAYNEE McDOUGALL by Steve Sachs 10/19/96

 

Sun Dancer!

Your sacred song rises from your heart,

Carrying the fullness of your being

Through the circling ceremony

Of the spiral dance.

Your eyes, wide open to the dream

Unfolding above and below,

Flash with the Rainbow's light

Emanating within the core of beauty

In the depths of your being,

Casting the compassionate light

Of the gentle warrior

On all who pass

Within your vision.

 

SUNFLOWERS by Barry Sultanov

 

Bright as bonnets

they nod in the wind,

inviting each current they meet;

on thick, substantial stalks

that yield,

yet promise permanence,

reliable as sunrise.

Do you hear them whispering,

sharing secrets, innocent, communing

in the silence

where the summer breeze has run?

 

Preferring sun,

they learn there is a time for fertile rain:

Black clouds roll, aroused,

ahead of rustling sheets

of piercing Arctic air.

Heavy raindrops mate and fall,

as yellow petals mist and dampen gold.

 

Drenched, released,

the flowers drop their skyward faces,

face the earth

as crystal tears

unwind their way

around the spiny shafts. 

The moistened ground agrees

to take another rounded seed,

receives the gift of cycling. 

Every year

the new ones come

as elder faces crack

and rain their cache

of blackened fruit,

releasing dreams that

led them on their journey to the sun- on days like this,

when potent truths

of ripening

come home.

GIFTS FROM THE MOTHER by Hollis Melton

December 1-3, 1995 I danced the Naraya at the Synod house of St. John the Divine in New York City. I was gifted with this message. 

I am the Mother

from me comes all life . . .

I am in all of you you are in me 

Come bring me your sorrows

your tears, your laughter

tell me your stories, your visions, your dreams

bring me what you call your sins,

your shame, your feelings of unworthiness

I will dissolve them in my tears

Come, come, do not be afraid

I love you

I will listen to you, laugh and cry with you

I see you as you truly are

you don't have to hide anything 

What? You don't want to come?

That's all right

I will wait for you

I never tire, my work is never done

I am strong, abundant

my spirit is everywhere, waiting

for you to come

Come, enter my embrace

I will soothe away your cares

I will melt your fears

my flame is bright

it will burn away your

disease, your pain 

Come, throw what you

no longer need or want into my fire

I will consume it with cackles of glee

Come sit by me and be comforted

let me touch your heart

I am light, I am love, I am compassion

You can trust me

I know it's been hard, long and lonely

but I am here

with all of my heart, my passion, my desire

my whole being is here to serve you 

And what do I want in return you ask?

I want you to fly free like a bird and

be who you truly are

I want you to live in the joy of each moment

I want you to see and know how beautiful you are

 

But how can I do all of that you ask?

I will be here to help you

whenever you are afraid

or in doubt reach out

and I will be there

you are not alone 

As you peel off the crust

layers of old selves

what is locked away deep within the darkness—

hunger, fear, despair,

hopelessness and pain

will drop away

at the core I will be there

and you will be me and I you

the spirit of the Mother will be in each of us

Come dance with me