I've Never Loved

by
BD Hudison

I've never loved
  (like I've loved)
I've never taken
  (like I've taken)
Waiting on a cracked corner to travel -
far away the cries of freedom slowly burn and die.
They leave me - always leaving - always just packing up and moving on.
But here I stand - I stay - like a block of cement.  I'm attached to this ground - to this place - to everything around me that seems like it won't be here tommorow.
I've never loved... a place... as much as I do this.

Labyrinth

by
Jim Wisneski

I sit more lonely
then the tomb of the unknown soldier,
reflecting on my life.
I close my eyes to hide from the world,
and I get lost,
in my minds cryptic labyrinth.

The intense atmosphere
wraps its somber arms around me.
It’s filled with creatures,
living in unison.
I’m confused,
like a child lost in a murky forest,
with the sullen trees glooming down.

I soon find a bright spotted a flower,
and I thirst its sweet nectar.
I drink as if it were my last drink,
my last peril into the illusion of life,
as to never wake again.

I then sit on an old,
rotted, brown tree stump,
and I absorb the cool, crisp air.
I discuss with nature, life,
but she quietly smiles,
and drifts away.

Then I am greeted by a foreign lizard woman,
with gold eyes,
and skin of a lime.
I begin to trouble the young luscious creature,
with many questions,
my life.
And I soon begin to realize that only I,
a pawn of life,
could answer these questions.
She finally speaks,
and guides me back home,
to reality.
I hate to leave,
as much as a child hates to leave
their playground at dusk.

I open my weary eyes,
still lonely,
and I smile. . .
for I am the victor,
of the labyrinth of life.

The Remembering

by
BD Hudison

You may be.  Gone right now.  But I can feel.  Your soft skin.  Empty kiss.  My heart follows.  The rhythm of the thunder as broken.  Eyes.  Look down upon me.  You.  Not us.  You've already left.  And I'm left.  With.  The remembering.

Mother Earth, Father Sky

by Angie Capzello One day, the earth looked up at the heavens and asked, “Who does the sky love best? “ The grass answered “I am the sky’s beloved. I look up, and I see him covered in brilliant blue. He moves over me like water, whispers through my leaves. And I sing love songs to him as my leaves brush together. Each year I go to sleep, yet he is always there when I wake, waiting for me, his one true love. The stream burbled as it laughed at the grass. “You are wrong, for I am the one the sky loves best. You say he moves like water, but he is hot and bright. He shines like the gold that lies hidden in my depths, and I reflect back all his warmth in glittering rainbows. No matter where I go, anywhere in the world, he is there waiting, all for the love of me. The tree shook her leafy head at the folly of her neighbors. “I am the one the sky holds dear. Soft and grey, he sends down the rain. I breath him in through my leaves, I drink him through my roots. Each spring I meet him in a gown of verdant green, and each autumn I wear scarlet, and together we dance through the seasons. In the winter he covers me in robes of purest white, for I am the one he loves best. Then the earth heaved and groaned, in a terrible torment. “I knew he would leave me, for I am old and worn. The years have passed since we first met, in a fire of passion. Now I have cooled, and he has forgotten our love.” The earth’s weeping shook the trees, the stream spilled from its banks and buried the grass in mud. Then night fell, and the sky came down and wrapped the earth in a cloak of sable and stars. “Hush, my love, be still. Do you not know that I love you? All that you see here is my gift to you. The love songs that whisper through the grass are my songs, the water shines for you like jewels. I garb you in colors each season, with all the life of the world. Even though you do not see me, I reach down to you, I am all around you every hour of every day. I am yours, beloved, from now until the world ends. It has always been you that I love best.” The tree covered them in a blanket of leaves, the grass made a soft place for them to rest, and the water serenaded them throughout the night. The earth sighed and settled down, wrapped in the arms of the sky, and there they lay together to watch the sun rise.

The Traveler

by BD Hudison Door to door - soul to soul. Travelling without asking, the seeker of searching. The creator of moments, good and bad. The provider for time, take it or leave it. Light footsteps move with ease on the rough ground. What comes from sight and touch can come from what's inside. To burn is to live, to shiver is to die. To wait... is simply life. For the traveler will always come, but will always go.

The Drift

by Michelle Dennis Evans

There is that point in time. While you lay down to sleep. When you stop thinking. Its before dreaming but after wakefulness. It’s when amazing things happen. It’s … the drift.

It’s when your mind thinks nothing. It’s when you allow the Holy Spirit to minister to your soul. It’s when God reminds you that what He has done is good. The drift is the time that you hear the voice of the spirit saying ‘It was all for you.’ ‘You have been washed clean.’ And there you are, drifting, somewhere in time between being awake and asleep.

Shattered Hopes

by Rebecca Besser The test is done, waiting for news. Expecting a new life, only to be told that it is already gone. No baby to take home.

A Short Tale of Two Hearts

by Jack Roth He loved her. So. She loved him. No. Their fingertips touched. Heat. The fire popped. Amber fly. She began to cry. Cold. He wished all the yesterday’s. Away. She welcomed all the tomorrow’s. Come. They pound the door. Unforgiving fists. He said understanding wasn’t. Welcome. She told him the pain was. Great. He wanted to know. Feel. She. Cut her heart out and handed it to him. Almost. Now he holds her. Heart. And her. Pain.

Affair

by Rebecca Besser We’ve been married for years. Always finding peace and comfort in each other. I don’t know where our life went off track. You never talk. You don’t notice I exist. What’s gone wrong?I wonder if you’ve found someone else. I followed you, when you said you were going to play golf. You didn’t. You met with her. She’s the reason for the harmony of our love being broken. You’ve crushed my heart. You promised you were mine. Your stuff is in the burn barrel out back. I hope you love her, because she will be all you have.

Love Never Forgets

by BD Hudison While movement may continue and while life inhales and exhales and while good mixes with bad and bad becomes great and great never exists, love never forgets. It's the shadow you chase while the sun chases you. It's the shadow you never see while the sun eats your eyes. It's the first flower of Spring popping up only to be eaten by a blade. Oh, and the air, the aroma, the fresh ideas. . . that love never forgets. I can say that the sky was darker when you left, but that would be a lie. I can say that the breeze was that of a hurricane, but it wasn't. It was gentle. It took the corner of my shirt and tugged it. I turned from the deadly sun and began to chase my own shadow. . . back to you. . . because love never forgets.

It snowed.

by Jim Wisneski It snowed. Shadows danced in the candlelight against the cold walls. (They don’t like fire. Ever.) In the middle of the floor, it creaks. It’s the only conversation in this room. (They don’t like talk. Ever.) It snowed. More.

Love (Heart)

by BD Husidon

There’s a chunk of my heart left in your hand – but you don’t see it. You probably lost it. Is the forbidden kind of love so bad? To try? The best kind of love is the forever kind. Can forever be silent? Can love be watched? Can I get my chuck of heart back? Can I have a piece of yours?