A blank canvas
It can be a bit intimidating to get started. That may be true in whatever it is that you’re doing, but especially if you’re creating art. That blank canvas… So much possibility.
Possibility — or pressure?
Depends on...
Classical Literature, the Gods, and Metaphysical Desire
In December I finished teaching a course on classical myth and literature for undergraduates. We read a variety of texts and from a variety of time periods. Among the works we studied were The...
Harnessing the Power of Time
One day about five years ago, when Barak Obama was running for president the first time, I heard him talking on the radio about wind power. He said that the wind is a cheap,...
“A Prayer for Platelets”
I. Bruised
Did you bump into
something—a table’s edge
or a low bench?
That’s a nasty one:
bluish-purple with
greenish-yellow.
More than a week’s time,
still fading.
I am delicate,
easily bruised,
like a peach
left on the counter
to ripen.
II. Scarred
After the last time,
I waited eight...
You Are God Who? … Me?
By William T. Hathaway
The statement "You are God" seems an absurd and presumptuous blasphemy, so it needs to be clarified. According to pantheism, it's not just you who are God; all of us are...
The Shower Prayer (full poem, by Cristina M. R. Norcross)
The Shower Prayer
The hot rain of the shower
comes down.
Walls blurred
from early morning vision –
I leave the high hot setting
and simply stand in the moment of daybreak.
Calendar unmarked,
computer untouched –
this day is thankfully unspoken for.
For...
‘Ishq (In English and Arabic)
'Rubaiyat' of Omar Kaiyyam, 'Hour of Grace,' by Edmund Dulac,
Yale University Library Collection
Because your sighs have fermented my blood, I need no wine. My name on your lips is the longest Sura. I begin the...
The Space Between
Some days I’m going along and I’m in that flow we all search for. Everything just clicks, synchronistic events occur to bring me exactly what I’ve asked for. I feel so connected; like I’m...
New Poems by MargBouvard
HYMNS
I think of Falah’s sister in Iraq
who lost her husband, her four children,
affectionate daughters, proud sons. I think
of her empty hands, her empty house
that is no longer a home,
and I pray.
I think there will...
A story about The Void and Manifestation
One day a woman woke up from her current state of awareness and realized that she was definitely doing her work in the world, but not in the way that she wanted.
After a month...