I know trauma – a poem
Oct17

I know trauma – a poem

by Les Gaines As if asleep in a sea of denial, loathing my own shadow, my faithful friend with me along so many miles. I know the crippling fear of stepping beyond the front door; that hope for a better life was best left ignored. I know trauma. I know the doubt that comes when everybody wrong seems right, and everything right seems wrong; when every arm but mine looks strong. I know the helplessness of trying to feel like something,...

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A Circle of Men
Oct07

A Circle of Men

by Les Gaines I sit in a circle with Men who are ready to go within, whose eyes blaze like diamonds in disguise and whose bodies are poised with determination. Unwilling to compromise, and using clever minds as a honing device, the brothers listen in. For groans and moans of shadows and doubts that utter, “I am less than.” In this circle of men, we find traces of hopes we’ve seen before, hidden behind childhood doors arousing pain we...

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The Rising of Basic Goodness — Embodiment in a Global Society
Oct05

The Rising of Basic Goodness — Embodiment in a Global Society

by Two Crows Calling First we took a hard look at our ego self Speaking our feelings of what we wanted in love, work and a peaceful world Discovering in our dyads and in our meditation that what we yearned for was so often in breakdown, “stalled”, not happening. We saw our own self sabotage, living in illusion, deceit, blaming others, caught in subtle consumer and family dramas. Our list of counterfeit, cocoon traits hit...

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My Poem 310:  Meeting Wisdom
Oct02

My Poem 310: Meeting Wisdom

My Poem 310: Meeting Wisdom The shaman knows those noises… They sometimes disturb the hunt…they are sometimes the result of the hunt… You see, the shaman has kept to his roots, not like the shamans reed flute, having been cut from its root, its soundings are the lamentations of the broken hearted which the shaman knows but he Also knows of the healed heart… knows the Icy grags and shadowed vales…becoming...

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My Elder Soul ~ a poem
Feb11

My Elder Soul ~ a poem

by Reuel Czach Elders, we are losing our Soul. We are so caught up individually in petty offenses and bickering and wounded-ness, that we are letting our civilization and our planet die. But most importantly, we are letting our souls die. When I chose to be wounded, and walk through life withdrawn in my cave, or I choose to be over-armored, to the point of being weighed down, with such heavy baggage, nothing else matters, …..my...

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The Twin Brothers, The Horse Twins
Dec03

The Twin Brothers, The Horse Twins

by Rebecca   The Twin Brothers, The Horse Twins The Ashvino The Horse Twins The Twin Brothers Tall, strong, Long black hair flowing They are the Ashvino Call to your brothers, And they will lead you on your way. Nobody knows where the Ashvino Twins live. They make visits to villages As they roam free. When they enter a town, The children are the first to know. They go running on their little feet Pattering, laughing, spilling with...

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