Gracie was a bit of a competitive girl. She was on the track team and often won the races. She helped out in the school office because...

I enjoy both science fiction and historical fiction, so I was excited to dive into “Kindred.” This novel also incorporates an element of...

Something special happened. While Fredd played for Truman, other bingo players gather around to listen. The lady who won the big pot placed a wicker basket beside Truman’s bingo cards on the table. She put half her winnings into the basket! Fredd looked up from his flute, amazed. There was fifteen hundred dollars there. “Keep playing, sonny,” the lady said to Fredd. Truman’s eyes grew wide in wonder. As Fredd played a delightful song with an Irish melody others started wa

Haiku Series Celia Blake #1 The tiger trained me   to creep through fire, but I learned—   to fly over tides. #2 The wolf left bones...

Let’s say you did the work, know your purpose, and are on a path you believe is meant for you. That's wonderful! We should, however, keep...

“So,” Carmella began to explain, “now that you know I’m here, I want you to know that I may appear again in cases when you worry.

Life is full of contradictions. So is the internet. So what do we do about it?

Picture the horizon, any horizon where the earth touches the sky, and envision it opening like an eye. See specks of light in the pupil of t

Welcome to another Poem of the Week! The bloodstone mirror shows no illusions—only the truth of transition, healing, and divine trust. From Mother to Crone, through shadow and light, here is a poem emerged in midwinter's quiet. Bloodstone Mirror by Cleo Bell Minutes tick weeks float like the snow transition from Mother to Crone—

“Do you know what a prophet is, Cassie?” “Hmm. Like a psychic who predicts the future?” “Not quite. Psychics are people with an excess of

You’ll drown me, and I’ll let you— and I’ll love it— because I’m safe with you.

“Breathe in the tranquility, exhale the strife. A relaxing vacation is a melody of life.” —unknown Mom and Dad are pretty different. Mom...

“He lives most life whoever breathes most air.” —Elizabeth Barret Browing I am blessed to have my mother. She is the strongest person I...

sun shines through leaves casting rhythms dancing light and free

(Poem of the Week) She Picked You But then she didn’t Needing something in the moments past the untouched of what was hinted. She did...

“There are many ways to tell the truth. It’s an art.”― Thích Nhất Hạnh, The Art of Communicating   The art of conversation, first and...

(The found letter) Dear Key of C, You’ve been kind to me Always showing the way home Into the middle Into the in-between The places I see The place to be. Hearing melodies Truths unveiled like a bride and groom naked on their honeymoon. Bare, pure not here or there but in the timeless everywhere and nowhere. —Cleo Bell #CleosLetters #TwilightLetter Dear Key of C was written for TwilightLetters.com

“Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.” —Carl Jung I’ve blogged a lot about...

Today is voting day. So, I felt it was the right time to blog about information overload. However, this blog is written to guide others...

(Poem of the Week) A thought blows in I take a breath Wonderin’ where he is There’s just somethin’ about that man Dancing eyes—wicked grin— I’d love to hear that southern voice and carry it on this wind— My fire burns beneath this Autumn moon With a flower in my hair I’m thinkin’ about You Whispering kisses, I call you to me Make me your favorite dream See me Hear me Watch the wind flying around me Give it a try Open your eyes Baby Come and get me. —Celia Blake All rights res