Healing through Art and Poetry Stepping Into Tina Karagulian
I am enough. In this moment, inside my breath, I am deeply loved by God, and I fully receive that love. I will not take in half a breath, but inhale with more intention. Taking time to drink in what is—simply, effortlessly. I am enough.
Stepping Into We notice your wings flap above us, Tapping us on the head, Reminding us that we can fly Each time we unfurl our wings. We notice the white stone—river rock— Pressing into the palms of our hands, Its coolness resting upon us, Reminding us that we can always step with feet bare—rooted upon the ground of our mother. We notice the flowery scent That comes upon us each spring— Looking up, we try to match with our eyes The purple flowers of mountain laurel, Reminding us that we each carry Sweetness of presence— A beacon for one another. We notice moss clinging to rock, Caressed by the rush of river, A carpet of softness under our feet, Reminding us that when we step into The true rhythm of our soul, We are enough.
*Tina Karagulian is the author of It Is Time: A Spiritual Memoir Chronicles an Armenian Woman’s Journey in Expressing Her Voice through Truth, Compassion, and Reconciliation and New Skin: Poetry and Prayers from It Is Time. www.tinakaragulian.com
Art by Tasha Marlin
Therapeutic Work from the Ingram Barnes & Noble Poetry Venue
The following poems were written in poetry therapy groups at the Ingram Barnes and Noble Poetry Venue. Groups were run by Voices de la Luna editors.
Knock Knock Sophia DiGonis
You knock on my door to bring me more news on how I bring down your world
Everywhere I seem to turn, you want to haunt me As my every thought, should be about your every whim
I don’t want to see your face I don’t want to hear your voice
Because the more I do, the more someone else I become.
—A me that does not exist— I’m not your marionette, I’m not your puppet, or trinket, or ornament
For your arm, your torso and for the whole world to see
I play my music to rush the blood inside me, I write my poetry to make that blood flow, which is the only way I know to relieve my pain.
As I open the door, with reluctance and fear only to find you on the other side,
I close it with assurance Knowing I can go on by myself
On my own terms With the wind by my side As One.
To the Self: A Question Peter Holland
Do I let them see, let them inside my world? Show off the warts, the flaws, open the cupboard wide, give them the grand tour or, do I just suffer in silence?
Kaleidoscope of Thoughts Don Mathis
A “shiny shelf” sits in the window surrounded by a wall of bookcases.
I could call it a “shriney shelf” for the remembrances of each object contain volumes.
Tim’s ashes rest in an amber bottle corked by a loquat twig. A library lies inside.
Marbles from my childhood play of “keepsies” with other Army brats catch the light through a gallon jug.
Aunt Rose’s blue glass basket and thick Murano craft prismize the morning sun
Making a sparkling set of memories, each reflection a feeling, each ray a beam of peace.
Untitled Vivian Kearney
Were we really voracious worms when we strove so much to survive at our first stage and when and how did our appetites for bitter-tasting leaves leave us and who told us we could be absorbed by but not devour the garden so we could decorate it with our grace-granted new butterfly patterns thankfully... delicately
Sober Reality Milo Kearney
Six fauns lounging on the grass, I said. No, three, they corrected. There were three fauns lounging on the grass. Get things straight! Please learn not to exaggerate.
Basic plain reality? When there are three fauns on the grass why isn’t it adequate to see six fauns lounging on the grass or one or an infinity?
Life and calculations. Experience honed by accuracy. This world of numbers. The precision of fog. With such a commotion, you’d get the notion fauns existed.
Surrendering Sharon Luna
Your lips sealed as your arms embrace Like the rays of sun your eyes go dim Your ears shut
Dead-bolted by nightmares that keep sleep at bay Unproven to self but to me
Although I know my fragility Strengthened within
Walls of crumbs Tumbling yet rebuilt And you say Don’t feel that way
Surrendering wins the war Steel Blades of peace putting earth together again
But today the sun has hid and the waters are all that we remember
River View Maria Alonso
I took the time to go to the River. To watch it, take it in and revel in its Water. Before the sun rose, I saw its stillness.
I saw the fallen leaves, colorful and dying mixed with small debris in a filmy glue where the ducks explored and swan through, around and out to the stillness of the fluid flow.
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