my days of feeding the hungry ghosts are over the men (and sometimes women) who hover on the outside wanting to steal my soul and put my spirit–my light–in a gourd to drink from when they are empty or sad or lonely no more! yes i see your pain and sorrow and yes, you are…
Write a poem for peace and send it to mailto:kokua@olympus.net by February 12. The poems will be presented that day. You don’t have to be Yeats or Whitman. Just write from your heart. And remember to hold PEACE in your heart while doing it. If we want peace, we must embody it. BE PEACE my…
This fog moved in suddenly this morning. I live very close to the sound and I’m on a bluff so the fog moves through us here. I can see billows of moisture swirling in the air backlit by the morning sun. This is all accompanied by the sound of a foghorn. It’s completely enchanting.
A Bridal Song I. The golden gates of Sleep unbar Where Strength and Beauty, met together, Kindle their image like a star In a sea of glassy weather! Night, with all thy stars look down,– Darkness, weep thy holiest dew,– Never smiled the inconstant moon On a pair so true. Let eyes not see their…
