thoughts from my mind to yours


‘Why Do You Create?’ Read the responses from these amazing bloggers!


“You can’t use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have.” 
― Maya Angelou


image copyright neha 2018



Why do I create? Because I have no choice–writing is the fuel. It jumpstarts me, relieves me, allows me to grow, and keeps me afloat. It keeps me connected spiritually and mentally. It gives me the opportunity to express myself in written form with the words will not flow freely from my mouth. I create because it’s in my blood, because it is my life force, because I cannot see myself doing anything else expressively.


Because the ideas have to go somewhere…or I’d burst 🙂

I create (write and draw) because those efforts can be exactly what my heart and imagination want. In other capacities, the look and feel of my writing are dictated by others, but when I create on my own, I can be the artist/editor. Plus, I live in a house with white walls. I have to get the colors out somewhere.


I am very passionate about preserving history – especially military history. I’ve visited many battlefields and when I do, I’m always struck by how many people were lost in that one spot. Real people like you and me, each one with real lives and real stories. I’m sure they would want to be remembered, so I do my best to bring some attention to it by writing historical fiction, and providing people a way to connect to and experience that history through characters’ perspectives. It’s something that’s bigger than me and don’t think I could stop even if I wanted!


It is one of the many things I have stumbled across. Today I’m busy, but one glass of wine, and it comes out, without it staying here… but eventually it seeks a place to grow. Nice thread.


I write and create so that people can see something they have never seen before.

It allows my body mind & soul to center onto the page. Freeing myself of self , truly necessary for peace of mind.


I suppose you could say I create, but it really is the Spirit of God that moves me to write my poetry and songs. I don;t write unless He gives me something to write. I do it because He has asked me to, and because I know it is the ministry He has me in during my cancer recovery. He has been so merciful to me!


I create to inspire and entertain. I want people to find something they can relate to or something that brings a smile or laugh to their day. Thank you, Neha!


I think, therefor, I… oops, that’s been used before. I breath, therefore I create. Better. For I can stop creating about as easily as I can stop breathing, and it would most likely have the same effect on me if I stopped either for too long 😉


I do acrylics on canvas, that was the best way i felt i could express. Eventually i started feeling the urge to write what i imagined in that. So that’s what i do now. I paint and write poetry on my painting. Sometimes i write poetry first and paint something that goes with it based on my imagination.

I write because it’s what makes me feel alive. It feels like what I was born to do. A wise rocker once said “my heart is like an open highway.” That is exactly how it feels when I’m creating a whole new thing on the page.


I write from my heart Neha and when I feel I have something to say. It’s my way of expressing myself. I’ve also recently begun sharing my music here which is something else that fuels my creativity. It’s my passion, both my writing and my music, and I’ve realised that it’s also like a legacy. I want to make a difference and give something back. It’s what I want to leave the world when I’m no longer here. Hopefully, more so than just photos, my kids and family and those who know me can look back and see who I was through what I’ve created and left behind. ❤


Self expression, self discovery, to be understood, to be part of a community of makers…


I write because it’s therapeutic and my body craves creating like oxygen 🙂

Writing is like second nature to me. It feels like breathing. It’s a heart to heart connection, a sacred communion with God and the essence of life, a way to share my feelings, emotions, to inspire others.


My writing explodes from my mind and fingertips. Im compelled to write.


I love writing because I’m creating art with words. I’ve never been much of a painter, drawer, etc, and when I found writing I fell in love. I take a lot of my bad (and good) experiences and turn them into poems. A lot of things I can’t say in a normal way or talk about, I turn into a big metaphor and use it as a poem. I love the release writing gives me. I love feeling like I’m creating an art that every person can see differently.

I photograph from some inner drive. It started with traveling the country and wanting to share the beauty. Now when I see beauty, I feel the need to capture a slice and share! Then writing helps reinforce the feelings and sharing via blogging is a great way to both share and connect to a larger community.

I create to feel alive, to express myself, and to try and share the light and love within me. 😊❤

I write so I can sleep at night. I write so I can try to sort of maintain some level of sanity in an entirely insane world. Writing is the step I take back from the edge of the cliff. A blank page is better than any therapist, and its much more exhaling than creating.

i write cause i dont talk much. all the thoughts and expressions i am only able to let loose in my blogs….just started actually, and also to cope with 11th grade (its a torture)


It keeps me sane…that is why I create…it helps my mental health.

Although I have separated my writing, this blog I writ spiritual pieces in my I share verse which come to me during my struggles with depression, anxiety and ptsd…if I didnt write about it I feel I would be very unwell so its like medicine for me.

I have always imagined, and I suppose I must have wanted a record of my imagining? As a child I wrote stories and got immense pleasure from the act of writing. This stayed with me. I am most absorbed when I am writing. Gardening is a less intensely focused form of creating, but gives me equal, if not more, pleasure. I suppose gardening is a less exposing form of creativity.


I love using unusual colours to create expressive animal paintings that help to support wildlife conservation projects and animal welfare initiatives. Fun with purpose! How could I not create?!


Over the years, I’ve been the recepient of many acts of kindness and generosity. I’ve also observed ordinary folk stepping up to make a difference in the lives of others. I hope I’ve done some good. So I’ve started writing about Acts of Kindness to thank these unsung everyday heroes. I wish I’d kept a journal so I could recall more but I’ll poking at the old memory bank 😄


Drawing is the only thing that brings me peace of mind in a stressful life. The blog has brought me into contact with kindred spirits who I regard as family.


The most obvious answer is that I create because I don’t have a choice. It’s a part of me I cannot deny. But the more complicated answer is that it allows me to express something I can’t express any other way. I write because it gives me a sense of fulfilment, it’s therapy, it’s a challenge, it’s a release. I like the feeling of making something that no one else could have made, to have created something out of nothing. I can’t imagine my life without writing.


I see each of my creations (stories and poems) as a mother sees her child. They will be the traces of me that will be left in this world forever!


Because it was an introduction to public writing. I learned that creativity is infinite, you just have to tune in to the vibe that get your juices flowing (different types of music equate to various moods and types of writing). Being new to writing, I also learned that the emotions extend through the pen, which can be very liberating when done with grace. You have to laugh at yourself and life a lot, or you are stuck on something that needs releasing. Thank you to those that “discover” me.

I create to tap into my Deep Beauty within me that fills me with indescribable JOY. Using the Talents I was given gives me such pleasure. It is also THE means to show whoever views my work my Heart and Soul. My Gifts free me to soar, to fly, to merge with profound Satisfaction. This is who I am, Neha. My Gifts show the world who I am. I couldn’t stop this Flow within me even if I tried. I feel cleansed somehow many times when I finish something I began creating. And to be able to share this ME with others, is a great privilege!! 🌸🌸🌸


I write/blog firstly for mindfulness. I’ve been soul-searching during the last couple of years and through counselling came to realise I’d rarely taken time out of my day for me. Just me. I’d done things for the family, for friends, for parents.
Now I am doing something just for me.
Discovering new people – like you!
Communicating with them too – like now!
Have a great week and if you live in the UK, stay warm and free of snowdrifts❄


Why do I create or write or what inspires me to be who I am; is God, Jesus, their Spirit that binds them All. Here is My Wish to You !!


I wish you more joy,
than sorrow, one can give.

More love than,
your heart can confine.

More laughter,
than tears.

More courage,
than fears.

More memories,
than any precious stones.

I wish you more sunshine,
than darkness or shadows.

More comfort than,
trouble or pain.

More grace than,
gratitude needed.

And more days filled,
with rainbows than showers.

My Wish To You!

Copyrights© | Creative Essence’s Creative Writing™|
William P. Darnell Sr. | All Rights Reserved |
The moral right of the author has been asserted |
Year Posted 2004


The reason I create is to inspire but also to make a part of my inner self visible. In sharing a part of myself I hope to inspire others to share a part of themselves and therefore fill their lives with the beautiful meaning they brought here.

I always had a spiritual connection with God and His love, and he inspires me to always create! People who know the creator, are blessed with that spirit of creation, to lift and inspire always. That is my gift from Him…and with that creative spirit within…it is a healing blessing to me every day. Your idea inspires. Hugs and blessings to you and your family!

All I Think Of

Where my treasure
lies so deep within
is the only place
where one will find

In my blissful dreams
where I silently wait
deep in my sleep are
You held so true.

In my awakened state
where my mind does
paint, perfect images
of the lovely things
You do.

One will always find
the secret of my hearts
love, finding each day
all I think of Lord, is You.


I write because God gave me the awesome gift of creativity and I feel He gave me that gift for a reason. Also, if I had to hold all my ideas inside my head, my poor brain would explode.


I write only what God gives me, and He has asked me to share it with everyone I can. It’s a pleasure to hear everyone’s comments. And its a joy to share with others what God so freely gives me.


It is seeing the finished product that makes me proud



Question – Why do you create (write/ take pictures/ draw/ cook)?

Hello Everyone,

I thought I would do an engagement exercise and learn more about my wonderful blogging community…I would like to know, Why do you create? Whether it’s a piece of writing or an art work…whether it’s waiting for hours for that perfect picture or mastering the perfect recipe…

Why do you create? Would love to read your comments and might add the most liked comment to the post ! Hope to hear from all of you! This exercise will be open until the end of February!


Thank you!




Poetic Collaboration “On The Way” Reminder…All Creative Minds Welcome!

Thank you to everyone who have participated in the collaboration so far, this is just a reminder to those who still wish to participate. You can click here for the details:


Please note to make your contributions in the original post in the comment section. Collaboration is open until December 11, 2017!


Thank you all and have a wonderful week!




Calling all Creative Minds/Poets/Artists to a poetic collaboration – “On The Way”

image copyright neha 2017


Hello Everyone,

I invite you all to my brand new poetic collaboration, On The Way.  You can write anything that is inspired by the prompt, I am only accepting new poetry at this time. Everyone is welcome to participate and I will add your contribution in the order they come and list the author (and blog link if listed) beneath the post. You may contribute as many times as you wish. Please note that hateful language is not acceptable and I will remove any post I find inappropriate. If you want to see a previous example of my collaborations you can visit here Please add your contributions in the comment section. Please include the actual verse not just the blog link in order to be considered. The collaboration will be open until December 11, 2017 until 11:59 pm E.S.T. Thank you all! So without further ado, I will start us off and hope to see you all join me in creating another beautiful, creative, collaborative, piece!


She stumbled on sunshine
that peeked through grey clouds,
on the way home.

poetry by Neha



Following the path
I knew I was on the way
Toward better days

poetry by Dorinda Duclos



On the way
to a better life
she found herself

By Denise Fletcher © 2017



I dashed through dandelions
Scattering seeds, to dainty fall
Each a wish; wanting them all

poetry by Diana



Sometimes you’re leaving
In order to find the way
That’s leading you home

Poetry by Erika Kind



on the way down
dandelions and daisies
distracted David’s day

Poetry by Brad V



On the way to something so beautiful
He stopped and took her by the hand
And they continued on together

poetry by Sylvester



surrendering all
these human shells transforming
diaphanous wings
flying in the massive sky
towards heaven’s pristine gates
distant tolling of church bells

poetry by Dorna Hainds



Words sometimes get lost,
on the way from Creativity,
the Destinations get crossed,
as Inspiration is quite finicky,
but Poetry always gets the best,
maybe Fantasy, and Passion, too;
yet Lyrics, and Fiction take the rest,
leaving Bloggers to make do,
with whatever scraps they can find,
to get published by the deadline,
and I’m left wanting more,
I know my writing isn’t Pure,
it’s tainted with Pain and Misery,
from a bloody Bitter history,
Darkness, Agony, and Woe,
follow me wherever I go,
but it seems along the way,
Hope and Resilience,
decided to stay,
which makes a difference,
words are harder to find in the Light,
Happiness and Joy jumble my thoughts,
and I often find I miss the Night,
for there, words are never at a loss,
on the way from a freshly Broken heart,
their structure alone can rip you apart,
when they’re spewed from lips of Rage,
the heat and fire burns down the stage,
the audience gives standing Ovations,
yet they’re so Impatient,
demanding an encore,
and I become a desperate whore,
Lost between Pain and Love…

Poetry by Grabbety Covens




On Being A Soldier

A neophyte he was commissioned

In the elite forces

The glamour and glistening,

The perfect touch of the olive green

Was all so beckoning…

Little did he foresee

A cruel distortion of the valley;
A violent paradise!

After being on the qui vive

Amongst nameless faces

Garbed in camouflage battle fatigues

Watching the crowd gingerly

For hours together…

Fighting off the monotony

With vacant eyes,

Plastic expressions

And abandoned thoughts

That old confident strut and swagger

Has returned.

Poetry By Ranjeeta Nath Ghai



Wait for Me

On the way,
memories lunged
from dark corners.
I fought that fight with my heart –
and on the way
I set free brooding angels willing to leave
the darkness’ sticky hold –
and I
saw the light shine on you,
I cried when you basked in its hope
and new possibilites –
but you didn’t know I could see.
On the way,
when daylight rained down and howling,
treacherous gales forced their way –
I endured them.
From now on we will decide
where the leaves
will fall, and if the sun comes again,
it will shine where we say –
then it will always shine, on the way…
to you.


Poetry by Anita Lubesh




A Poem is like a walk
A walk inside my mind
In all its nooks and crannies
where I’m storing the sunshine

Every time I revisit a corner
a drop of creativity falls through
The brilliant thought paves the ways
and the words show me the way through

The stroll through the darkest thoughts and feelings are too scary
Everyone wishes to skip the way
Not the face the way the way it is

The path has its twists and turns
It is easy to get lost in them
Delightful as it may sound
Hurt, pain, and anxiety are quietly taking shelter here

A burst of happiness and joy will sometimes pop up
Gives you the relief and strength to make the journey
Pluck a smile here and there
And make your life a little perky.

As exhilarating as it may sound
Be warned before you want to restart
Are you ready to relive
all the hurt and pain of the past

A walk in my mind is not so easy as it seems
It allures you to enter without the feeling of being seen.

Poetry by Megha




On the way
I found myself
I had lost myself
On the way
Yet when I found
Myselfe again
I was renewed
Better than before
Because sometimes
When we lose oursleves
We learn our way
As we are on the way
When we find ourslevs
We are better
Because we gained
Wisdom and understanding
On the way

Poetry by Pete Gardner




Somewhere on the way
between heaven and earth
where life forces are shaped
and destinies intertwined,
two souls prepared for a mix
of earth, wind and fire,
bursting into a crimson helix
that would become a love
pure and untainted,
Carefully stored away, it waited
ready to be activated when eyes met
and an unspoken unbreakable bond
began to suddenly take shape.

Poetry by



On the way to my centre,

I skimmed the journey, retrospectively,

Witnessed all too late,

The many dimensions I had yet to see

Leaked my identity 

Through black on white,

The only language I speak.

Semantics, connotations of my poetry

Underscores and solidi, mark how I,

Identify, mark, group and divide

The makings of my golden mind

There’s the world, how I understand it

Then everything else, in no particular order

On the way, to unravelling me

Their misstep was assuming what they see

Comes from what I write, these are words

That bear shape in thought form, 

Incising and making themselves known

Naturally, through this platform, put simply

What you read is a memory

Stirred in a dish as I wish,

I’ve written, been writing, will write

Tremor-inducing pieces

On the way to making infinity


– Original-Dante ©2017



On the road
The dotted white line
Stretches ahead forever

Poetry by Ana Daksina




Sun knows who deserve to have the shadow and who don’t…

Poetry by:



The words free fall into the abysses of time
Each a mark of love, life, passion strife.
Yours and mine.

Poetry by: Komal Gupta@tejaswiniaura




On the way
To another day
Distracted by
Words at play
I wonder why
On the way
A new sunrises
The wise advises
Nothing new
But still so true
On the way
We make friends
It depends
On definition
Gained by repetition
On the way

Michael Romani on behalf of




On the way
From here to there
I went astray
Where the path
Following a thought
That led to a question
That invited exploration
That took me down paths
That carried me further
And further away
From where I meant
To be.
I got lost
On the way there
And found
Myself in
Another here.

copyright Margaret Mair, December 2017



Calling all Creative Minds/Poets/Artists to a Poetic Collaboration – “Letting Go”

image copyright neha 2017


Hello Everyone,

It has been a while since I have done a poetic collaboration and I thought with fall approaching soon this would be a great time to do one. The theme of this collaboration is ‘letting go’ ( letting go of a person, season, loss, grief, dreams, anger, hate or any other emotion or object that you may choose to write about). Everyone is welcome to participate and I will add your contribution in the order they come and list the author (and blog link if listed) beneath the post. You may contribute as many times as you wish. Please note that hateful language is not acceptable and I will remove any post I find inappropriate. If you want to see a previous example of my collaborations you can visit here.  Please add your contributions in the comment section. Please include the actual verse not just the blog link in order to be considered. The collaboration will be open until September 30, 2017 until 11:59 pm E.S.T. Thank you all! So without further ado, I will start us off and hope to see you all join me in creating another beautiful, creative, collaborative, piece!


Her eyes followed the white tipped waves to shore
Her heart heavy with the sweet ache of letting go
As she watched the sun set with all its warmth

poetry copyright neha 2017 (



The bullet that left a shattered heart
Was hard pain when it hit
Looking at all the mess around
Made me break down and weep

But after the tears had dried again
I looked at each single shard.
Some were old and dirty
Some were shiny and pure art

I brushed the dirty ones all clean
And cleared out what was overdue
I looked how they would fit right now
And put them altogether new

With this new established heart
A new day can begin
What was will never be forgotten,
It forced the growth – was not in vain

The shards are all my memories
Which made me who I am
Don’t want to miss a single one
I’d do it all again

Whatever might look as an ending,
Is never meant that way
The night may look dark and so scary
But there’s always another day

We need the silence and the darkness
To focus on our light
‘Cause we are like the dawning sun
After a cold dark night

The bullet helped me to evolve
To bring the process to an end
That’s why the one who shot the bullet
Has now become another friend

poetry copyright Erika Kind (




What happened once is long ago
Regrets and guilt won’t change it though

And all the wounds, well, quite a lot
From all the bullets others shot

I think it’s time to let them heal
And stop to make it a big deal

Too long I kept the past alive
And cut myself with its sharp knife

Too long I carried it along
And kept myself from moving on

I look above and see the sky
Was it ever so blue and high?

There’s so much room to just be me
I’m letting go and flying free

poetry copyright Erika Kind (



Letting go,
Can be an act of strong love.
In the role as a person or parent,
It is a gift from up above.

Letting go,
It is a gift that’s hard to perform.
But with trust and the action,
Life gets reformed.

poetry copyright Astrid (



heat rising through my body like an angry tide
waves of anger drown out all thoughts
softly a whisper comes about letting go
allow the tides of life to pass gracefully
deep love anchors me to eternal peace

poetry copyright Brad (


Not a day goes by without me thinking of you,
Not a day passes without my wondering,
Not a day dies before I die again inside,
Yet, today, there are no more days.

poetry copyright Rob Mcshane (


What once was
Time changes
Hands on clock turn
Clock in heart turns
Antique memories
Letting go
Always somewhere in the mind

If no longer tangible

poetry copyright sylvester (

 Letting go of you…..
Everything you are to me….
Even when you are too far away to be seen….
Even when I realize the deep fact, that you don’t even know I exist…..
That you may have seen me once or twice,
But not for long enough or close enough to notice….
Though I did. And I clearly have in my mind,
Every single picture of your’s I captured with my eye..
And now its been almost a decade,but I am still not ready to leave them all behind….
And now I know, letting go of you and your memories,
Is as impossible as, breathing OUT oxygen, every last bit of it, from my veins and arteries…..


To let go…

Yonder in the horizon the sun set…
The clouds they bade farewell to older lands…
Into the oblivion, forlorn I stared…
Standing firm.., yet with trembling hands.

Into the misty gray you walked..
My soul it howled a silent wail…
The heart though it ached for your love
These eyes they said no word without fail.

The lights are out…darkness shrouds
Shadows play a mocking game…
As fingers flip through torn notes…
I knew ’tis the time to wipe your name.

No words uttered… no expectations
I knew ’twas the time to let go…
No hard feelings… all are forgiven…
Our story is history.. it happened long ago.

poetry copyright Sumantra (



Come Away With Me My Friend (Let Us Run To The Ocean)

Come away with me my friend


Let us run to the ocean,

Where you can let the pain in your heart

Be overpowered by the roar of the waves.

Let us go where you can shout ”Why?” to the sky,

And scream as loud as you need.

Where you can fall to your knees on the soft sand.


Let us run to the ocean,

Where I can hold you tight, and let you cry.

Where you can let your shoulders sag.

Where you can let your tears fall,

To be carried away by the waves.

Lean on me. Let me be your strength.


Let us run to the ocean.

Oh, my dear friend… let us just go!

You need not think about the future.

Let us walk along the water’s edge.

Remember when we were young?

Our lives were so carefree


Let us stand in the water.

Let the waves splash your face,

And gently wash away your tears.

Let us run to the ocean.

Let us go where the waves go on forever.

Life can be hard my very special friend.


But let us run to the ocean.

Life we cannot always understand.

Things happen that cannot be explained.

But the waves will go on forever

Through night and day; Through rain or shine,

As will my love for you.


Let us go to the ocean my dear friend.

We will face the rolling waves together,

And if you slip… I will be there to catch you.

If you feel you are losing your way…

I will be there to guide you.


poetry copyright (



Going, gone!

She moved from places and spaces,

some haunted her and some with reluctance.

Her belongings scattered, her memories astray,

her experiences painful.

She reached a shore,

she clung onto it with her dear life,

finally, letting go, of her identity!


poetry copyright Suparna (




Fake Samurai Swords

There were these children who pretended to be adults,
fighting for good against the forces of evil.
Inspired by animated films that focused on this ancient struggle,
these adults, these children in disguise, were transformed into cute animals, anthropomorphic, pure of heart, ready to suffer the ultimate sacrifice if it means a happy ending.
As long as good wins against evil, they can sleep soundly.
The world can be full of loss, but the balance is there.
There will be justice for all,
everything will be alright.
There is a life we fight for,
and when that ends,
we will go to heaven,
celebrating eternity with the ones we love.

This is what these children believed,
they acted this out, wearing their parents kimono’s, using sticks as samurai swords.
One of these boys played this game devoutly,
he was going to save the world.
His grandmother told them stories about this great war,
the unfathomable death toll, piles of corpses, buildings made for death.
Desperate men crying out for their mothers,
crying out for their dreams of childhood: a universe that balances itself out, a universe that punishes the wicked and rewards the good.
And it’s then that this child started wondering about those who died so that this narrative could linger: the heroes who never had a chance to dream, heroes without luck, heroes too weak or too good to kill without hesitation or guilt.
It then dawned on him these were childlike fantasies,
something to make us sleep better at night.
This cosmic battle of good versus evil,
belongs to man alone,
the great cost of life,
is ours to make sense off.
But it won’t make anybody come back,
and nobody will be waiting for us,
none of the dead will forgive us.
the great cost is only ours to bear.
And what about the universe?
The Universe can’t be bothered.

This realization made the child cry,
when he wiped away his tears,
a process that took years,
he became an adult.
He continued the fight against evil,
playing by different rules,
wearing a army-uniform instead of kimono’s,
wielding military-grade weaponry instead of fake samurai swords.
He would get ready for that great war that would come again,
he could either die so that others could dream,
or live so he could be inspired by those who died for this dream.
But sometimes he couldn’t help himself:
sometimes he just wanted to play with fake samurai swords again.
And when his platoon wasn’t looking;
he pretended to be that child pretending to be an adult.
He knew that when the time came,
he had to let this go,
but for now,
while no one was looking,
he was winning the fight against evil,
and sometimes he would lose but the universe would balance itself out,
he would see his fallen friends in heaven,
they would wait for him,
salute him on arrival.
He would sleep soundly those nights
all his dreams
would have a happy ending.

poetry copyright thosestubbornwaves (




diffusion seeps

a single cell layer deep,

barely cognizant 

of the peel being cast aside

in a wilting weep.

unrecognized within the foliage,

a tender touch of light

on the ancient forest,

who remembers and lives

connection and the grace of balance.

i brush the fronds

and release my future 

to the agile wind.


© M.G. Iannucci 2017




Motorcycle Man

A man goes for a late-night ride on his motorcycle on his way into town.
On the way there, he is approached by another man wearing white shoes.
White shoes asks motorcycle man, “Are you ready to go?”
“No,” motorcycle man replies, “I have so much to do, and it’s late. My son starts his first day of fifth grade tomorrow. I don’t want to sleep through it. I need to tell him I love him and that he’s going to do great things and make lots of friends in school. I need to kiss my wife goodnight before she falls asleep and remind her how important she is to me so she has pleasant dreams. I need to tuck in my baby and sing him to sleep so that he grows up knowing I’ll be his stronghold. I’m sorry, it’s just too late in the evening for this. Can we do this another time?”
White shoes smiles and looks at him patiently. His expression was so full of peace, but he insisted, “We’re going to do great things, you and me. I don’t think you or anyone else understands. Maybe they never will. But we need to go now.”
“May I at least call my friend and tell him where I am first? He’s waiting for my call, but I have bad reception at my house. I need to make sure we have a good laugh so we can each go to sleep with smiles on our faces.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t allow it. We don’t have much time left, and in the grand scheme of things, it’ll only take a moment.”
“But why not? I don’t think you realize what this means to me! Please, just let me have this night. I have responsibilities! I have commitments! I have planning to do and the world to see!”
White shoes’ expression softened, “If I show you a glimpse into the outcome, will you consider going with me?”
“Perhaps, but I’m not making any promises.”
White shoes wrapped his arm around motorcycle man’s shoulder. Together, they saw the future. There was so much pain, but so many miracles along the way as well. Motorcycle man’s sons grew up strong and loving like he was. Their mom told them stories about how incredible motorcycle man was- how they fell in love, and for every ounce of strength, there were two ounces of tenderness. She would never love the same way again, but she did love more fiercely all those around her, especially her sons. Motorcycle man’s friends got together frequently. At first, it was to comfort one another, but then they started laughing about all the amazing memories they made. Each of his friends changed their lives to be a bit more like him. One became a strong husband to his wife. Another learned how to fix up old cars and motorcycles and eventually drove the same kind motorcycle man was driving. And still another friend held stronger to his convictions than he ever had before. All of them increased in integrity.
Everyone who heard motorcycle man’s story was deeply touched, and amazed at how he inspired so much love, courage, boldness, and kindness.
“Okay,” he finally said, “I get it now. I don’t like it, and I know you know they won’t approve, but you’re right. We’re going to do a lot of great things together, you and me. It might be late and the time inopportune, but the time is now. It just doesn’t make any sense putting this off.”
Together, broad shouldered and proud, white shoes and motorcycle man walked the rest of the trail together, leaving the motorcycle in the middle of the road. Motorcycle man left his silhouette there, next to the bike.
The story isn’t over, and I’m not sure the pain will ever leave, but I know that someday, it will all make sense.

short story copyright

Shimmer in Blue

I was designed                               for a shimmer in blue                       for a merry sailor tune
for all of the things                                      that titillate you
I can see                                  the wide open sea                                  the salt air breeze
like a veil and ring                            like my bride to be
and so                        I ebb and flow                                    I ne’er let go
let the words sing                      into an ocean throe.
Now my heart throbs                       and floats and bobs                          as I ask the cob
why roots start growing                       where there’s a meal on the hob.
He looks at me with a tear in his eye         he says to me that he learned to fly
on a warm, summer day with a clear blue sky      but for every memory adventures bring
you never forget your first goodbye.

poetry copyright




Letting go?
How was that supposed to happen,
You were the air, and my lungs…
not just the blood flowing through,
but my veins, too.
how was that going to change?

How could you just walk away?
I mean,
you shared my hopes,
my dreams,
my life.
My inspiration,
my passion,
my wife.
Was everything just…
nothing to you?
If so,
what am I supposed to do?

Letting go?
Wouldn’t it be easier for blue
to become black;
the sun,
turn into the moon;
the stars,
be the sand on the shores…
I could never let you go…

Until I did…
You didn’t’t really give me a choice.
The pain was excruciating,
and my path,
my path was dreary;
but I’m,
I’m so much the better for it,
that much’s abundantly clear.
And I owe it all to you my dear;
for walking away,
and never shedding a tear.

poetry copyright Grabbety Covens (


I am in a season of change,
Letting go of pieces of me
That don’t fit anymore,
Making room for new ones
That I pick up along the way
My path of self-discovery.
In this journey I have collected
Rocks of courage,
Of strength,
Of determination
To help me find the me
That has been buried
In the chaos of life
Yet was always there
Waiting for the right time
To blossom in the process of
Letting go.

poetry copyright Robin Baldwin (



Can I ever let go?

Can I ever let go of your touch?
At night, I dream of your fingers.
I can’t believe I miss you so much.
Your strokes through my hair still linger.

Can I ever let go of your eyes?
With great pride, you watched me grow.
I dearly pray for one last surprise.
You to return to me, I know.

I know my prayers won’t be answered.
My wishes never come true.
But I still have hopes to be answered.
And one day to see you too.

Can I ever let go of your humor?
Your wit and jokes had lightened my days.
I know this is much more than a rumor
That I’ll never have you brighten my days.

Days keep on passing.
But life must go on.
My heart is fasting
Each day it beats on.

Can I ever let go of you?
To my dearest, older brother,
My answer is a ‘no’ to you.
You weren’t only my brother.

You helped my mother to raise me.
You provided light for her blind eyes.
You’ll always be the best of me.
Until the day, I close my own eyes.

poetry copyright Susanne Leist (



The Girl I Let Go

She was a shell, really
a shadow of a shell
hollow and barely warm.
Her faint breath could
barely fog
the mirror I held to my face

She was still cloaked in
the garment of expectations.
He spine was cowed
and her posture demure

The only thing
I took from her was
her eyes.

The fury of her eyes
would never diminish,
their eternal flame
is equal parts salvation
and damnation.

And so I left her
their to wither into
I shed her like a
crumpling snakeskin

and stepped into
the woman
I ought to be.

poetry copyright Jessi (


Release the world,
The hold of its illusions
Weighs the heart.
Sensory deception…
Filtered impressions
Conditioned, react
Like clockwork;
Predictably bland.
Embrace the child
Who sleeps within,
Forgotten emissary
Of untramelled joy…
Wake her to laughter
And the dawn of Life.

poetry copyright Sue Vincent (




I —
Have another secret to tell you:
That I once ran through a bookstore
And saw an untitled book.
I hesitated once to buy it,
For who would even read such story?
But still,
I went to the counter
Paid for it
And told the lady
I will be extending this story
Of you and me.
Hoping that someday
Our names would be on its covers.
Our story will continue until the ink
Blotches on the pages.
And our story would not remain…


poetry copyright (



And it starts again
The pitter patter
A noise
To break the silence
Asking me to pick the pen
To let go the poem

poetry copyright Priyanka (





Summer Blog Recommendations

As we enter the last stretch of August, I would like to share some of my favorite blogs! A few are recent finds and a few old favorites…as always this is not the complete list as there is so much talent in this community but just a handful who I adore!!! Without further ado and in no particular order here are my summer blog recommendations:


Petals Unfolding – Amy shares beautiful, breathtaking images and messages that touch your heart and speak to your soul.

jdubqca – Read some beautiful poetry by J Matthew Waters that makes you think and relate to the world around us.

Original Dante – Another wonderful poet and an all time favorite of mine. Check out the provocative pieces by Michael.

Percolating Poetry – A recent find and an absolute gem, do visit this beautiful and heartfelt poetry blog.

Avian101 – An old and dear favorite blog by H.J. Ruiz, will leave you captivated by his informative posts on birds and amazing captures.

The Wandering Armadillo– Another recent find of an amazing poetess and blogger. The imagery created in her words will leave you in awe.

Erika Kind – An inspirational blogger and author and another one of mine all-time-favorites! Check out her inspiring quotes, posts and poetry!

Infinite Living– A fairly new find but another wonderful addition to this blogging community…visit this amazing poetess and read her beautiful words on life.

Arbie Krae – Arbie shares her captivating words whether it is on story writing, character development, fiction or poetry her posts make you come back for more.

Writing to Freedom – Brad writes ” words to inspire and empower” and has been a personal favorite since I started my journey here.

Madasahatter572 – Another amazing poetess, especially of micro-poetry. Read her thought provoking verses.

Tiny Lessons Blog – One of the most compassionate bloggers I have come across on this journey, her beautiful posts and images will touch your heart.

BooknVolume– A fantasy author and an exquisite poetess, Morgan weaves beauty in her words. Another favorite of mine!

Vulturesti – An absolutely fantastic photographer of everyday life, visit Doru’s blog for some amazing captures.

Night Owl Poetry – Another old favorite and crazy-talented friend and poetess Dorinda, brings words to life with her poetry.

Paul Militaru – Capturing flowers, people and everything in between, Paul delivers warmth and beauty in his photography. A favorite since I started here.

Cindy Knoke – Cindy’s photos always leaves me in awe. A must-see blog and a personal favorite!

Alright that’s it for today, go check out these amazing bloggers and tell me about others who you feel should be recommended ( no self promotions!). Check out other blog recommendations from previous posts and stay tuned for more!


image copyright neha 2017