Incantations of Hope
Micro-poems to sustain our spirit. Final series.
Dear Reader,
My deepest gratitude to you for the love and enthusiasm you expressed for the poetry that graced these five amazing installments.
…and what can I say about our incredibly generous contributors for giving to us the genuine and powerful insight that emerged from their magical pens? I’m afraid not enough words would suffice, to encompass my awe and thankfulness.
I fervently hope that the power of the right words found and stayed with you, brought you what you asked of the universe. I hope they were catalyst spurring you to a state of joy and purpose. I hope they bring healing where needed, widen the path to gentle and loving emotional, spiritual, and mental self-examination. Above all, I hope they renewed faith in our own unfailing resilience. All is not lost. We are not lost.
Phynne~Belle
A summer morning
The sweet warmth of a summer morning discretely pries its way through the bedroom curtains. Accompanied by the delightful chattering of songbirds.
Rick Spisak
Airport scanner. Jumping-jack pose. Exercise!
Merilee Johnson
Dusk at the Campground
Little brown bats zip and dip just above my head snipping at night-fall insects. Logs in the firepit begin to glow red. In the distance, a chorus of coyotes set to howling. Lightning bugs flick off and on. The damp air perfumed with evergreens, and though it’s mid-summer, I think of Christmas.
Louise Moises
winding paths of the mountains on a clear day how close they seem the blueprints of my dreams
Jackie Chou
I am never separate from my library card My whole life revealed on the bookshelf I sit my legs dangling like plumblines This life, an old collection of the rare books
Judith Veder
Trampoline
Above the graying wooden fence, heads of children appear and disappear again and again and again, each time bouncing higher and higher, their laughter fills the neighborhood. My old bones long for such exuberance.
Louise Moises
Incantation of hope
High in the Sangre de Christo Mountains An Indian met me on the path You blend three roads he said In a dream I saw you Surrounded by tech, but deep in dreams Your home is media You’ll sing of spirit
Rick Spisak