Poem of the Week: Bloodstone Mirror by Cleo Bell Minutes tick weeks float like the snow transition from Mother to Crone— reading devotionals writing poems signs show a path On my way home. Shadow work casting light joy lost to joy gained crushed then pray and pray wounded dreams back into day Patterns snagged instincts speak louder than any pain. Heart and mind this young crone knows true love is divine I trust in the Lord. Midwinter past my own seeds I plant still growi

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

(Poem of the Week) That November night I was a queen and you a king. You played the royal jukebox, and your ceaseless arms held me while...

(Poem of the Week) My solitude is the result of my survival My fear is the loss of my youth My womanhood is the peak of the mountaintop...

(Poem of the Week) III-14 Whispers Massaging Memories Into accepting minds Kissing, blessing, Addressing Words that hold They want to...

New Passages my warmth of living from within— grew like the sun— a supernova spreading through my soul shocking my heart scorching my...