Linda Swanberg 2815 Old Fort Rd., Apt. 215 Missoula, MT 59804 (406) 493-0240 email@example.com SOUL-MAKING IN A GARDEN i. My path toward wholeness began in a garden. Feelings of isolation from the world lessened as...
The autumn is filled with pumpkins prayers for miles God's endless smiles on cool breezes shines high rise's of many colors with the leaves dance on the ground in the sky with autumns wing's flies a great season an inspiring reason peace in...
The garden is not grateful to the gardener.
The bud does not cry, 'Open me!'
Darkness untangles threads of light without God's fingers,
filaments of pollen spilling from the reckless void.
The gardener is grateful to the garden. Only...
Ōshikōchi no Mitsune
painted by Kanō Tan'yū This week's posting will again serve a dual purpose. In addition to announcing the new Mnemosyne poem, I'd like to also introduce the form, tanka, so that we may memorize...
river of myrrh
mother gaia’s offshoot
in the beginning, she was
after the beginning, she is
when the beginning ends, she will be
her strong curves carving worlds into being ~Terri Stewart, January 2011
San Carlos Wildflowers
John Fowler This week I've fallen in love with a new (to me) poet, Yehuda Amichai, whose selected poems I picked up at Half Price Books a few weeks ago and have been devouring...
My Robin flew away… That morning was different.
That horizon with the twilight hue of dawn was colorful.
That air smelled of freshness.
I was up and awake from a dreamless slumber, with dizziness of new
awakening and anticipation...