Is free communication
Is for my littles and bigs
Words hurt, pictures soothe
Paint, charcoal, chalk, pencil
We all take turns at Art

-Lady J


Sunlight when the day is over,
Spreading thick and golden,
Across the quiet landscape,
The light of day is broken,
Caught for a moment in time,
The breathtaking power of change,
Transforms the light into dark,
And back into light again.

Sunlight when the day is beginning
Spreading faint but warm,
Across the landscape hovers,
The first soft rays of dawn,
There is magic in these Borderlands,
Where Light and Dark collide
And briefly grasp the other’s hand,
Across that great divide.

-Sharon C. Hawk
All Rights Reserved


Darkness forever is my soul,
My mind fractured never whole.
My heart has cried out in pain,
My soul wept trying to keep from going insane.
I though how easy it would be to just give in
And let my mind slip,
No longer feeling any pain
Just let myself go insane.

And then you came into my life…
Making me laugh, making me cry.
Telling me it is not OK to die.
You give me hope that someday
I might win this raging battle within.
There’s a new light within my soul,
I have hope I will one day be whole.



Littles, Tweens, Teens, Bigs.
Shameful, silent, hurt, abused, neglected.
Stay silent outside.
Sharing is scary and insiders should not
without permission.
I want to be me.
Who am I?

-Author Unknown


Auspicious August sunrise
haze hangs thick,
marks river’s curve south,
five geese
lean into flight
life exceeds myth.

-By Sharon Solloway

Flowing Free

Love flows ever constant
Like the rivers to the seas
Though Life’s current surges
O’er rocks and fallen trees.
But with faith as your paddle
Love will be your guide
To steer you through the rapids
And ease the bumpy ride.
And later when the waters calm
And all the bruises heal
Love still flows ever constant
No matter how you feel.
Its in the sun
So warm your face,
Or a child’s smile
A dancer’s grace.
One must have
An open heart to see
That love’s the key
For flowing free.

-By Melanie Anderson

The Gardener

You cannot plant weeds
in the garden of your soul
and await with eager face
the birth of a rose,
Plant your garden full of wholesome seeds,
of corn and wheat and pungent rye,
and flowers petaled red and blue,
and with care, by and by,
a tender bud will bloom,
Provided you sow not the ground,
with indifference, for then you ll know
that want of loving care strikes down,
the sweeter things you might have grown.

-By Sharon C. Hawk
All Rights Reserved

Heaven Can’t Wait

Heaven lies not
beyond the stars
But dwells within
your heart.
Attitude is the golden key
That plays an integral part.
Possibilities open wide
By the choices you create
If life is Hell change your state of mind
Each day‚s a brand
new slate.
Heaven lies not
beyond the stars
But is in a loving thought.
A kindly deed here,
a smile there
Your effort‚s not
for naught.
You work the loom
that weaves the thread
For the fabric of
your life.
Will it be bright and smooth or instead
Bring you more
chafing and strife?
Heaven may lie within your heart
For loving others shows your worth
Yet deeds play the
vital part
By bringing Heaven down to Earth.

-By Melanie Anderson

I Think of All My Problems

I think of all my problems.
I think of all my pain.
I think of all my sorrows,
Until I go insane.

I think of all the smiles I’ve worn,
Which hide sorrows underneath.
No one seems to notice,
That I go through so much grief.

My tears seem to keep flowing,
Inside my tired eyes.
Each time I want to tell you,
My words come out as lies.

These days I’m feeling distant,
Far away and weak.
My sadness pulls me further,
From the happiness I seek.

I’ve just begun to realize,
That my hopes and dreams are gone,
I’m walking down a dead-end road,
Humming a tuneless song.

I’m standing on a rooftop,
Although I’m scared of heights.
I’m watching the cars beneath me move,
And somehow this doesn’t feel right.

Now I think of what I’m doing,
I know I should find a way,
To beat through my depression,
Will I be able to someday?

Someone might be there,
To help me make it through,
Maybe They will listen,
And tell me what to do.

I’m seeing through the darkness,
And I’m starting to trust a few,
I think I’ll try to make it,
So I can be there for them, too.


Let the Rains Come

In the dark of the night, how loved is the rain,
for it’s sweet soothing rhythmical sound,
for the drought-weary Earth is thirsty again,
and wanting new life to abound.

How lovely the rain after sunset,
the world all aglow and alive,
with green golden melting the Earth,
and red golden melting the sky,

Little seedlings await to command,
the dawn of their youthful days,
defending their life they remand,
to the world’s most ancient of ways.

They must struggle to live,
to push life through the soil,
they both take and give,
of Earth’s bountiful spoils.

Let the rains come now fast!
let the clouds fill and burst!
let the rains come at last,
and vanquish our thirst!

-By Sharon C. Hawk
All Rights Reserved

Living Free

I was tending the chore of the hour,
when the moon rose full and pale,
when the first faint stars of evening
broke the twilight’s veil.
A cloud rose full and bright,
a black bat spread its wings,
and danced in lazy circles, hunting,
other flying things.
I felt at peace in that moment,
though not some epiphany grand,
just a quiet moment spent,
at one with sky and land.
I whispered a secret hope,
that with all my heart I could see
the present and cherish it deeply,
whatever that present may be.
Whatever that moment may bring,
however steep life’s way,
whether sun or rain may fall,
whatever comes each day:
Regard the unpredictable,
as a challenge yet to know,
and the fear of things yet hidden,
as a chance to learn and grow.

-By Sharon C. Hawk
All Rights Reserved


Such vast and lovely vistas,
lay before our eyes,
such many colored rainbows,
red and purple skies,

deep and ever-changing hues,
beckon winged things higher,
and the eagles fly the highest,
and the wrens stay in the mire,
and in-between flies uncertainty,
the finches and pigeons galore,
disciples of mediocrity,
fly but never soar.

Such richly painted moments,
open minds implore,
such ripe panoramas waiting,
for bold men to explore.

Ideas rich with thought,
beckon each man higher,
and the seeker flies the highest,
while the narrow mind is mired,
and in-between grows bigger,
when the savagery is shorn,
from a world that worships comfort,
mediocrity is born.

-By Sharon C. Hawk
All Rights Reserved

My Beloved Pet

From Heaven there came a special treasure
Fluffy and white and loved beyond measure
A green eye, a blue eye in a sweet little face
Which nothing in the world could ever replace

In sunshine or showers he played for hours
bounding over green grass and fields of flowers
Where I went he followed far and wide
My little shadow Jingles always by my side

Then one day my heart was broke
His little life over in a fatal stroke
A gaping hole where my heart should be
and a little white cat spirit suddenly set free

A tiny grave. Too much grief to express
For one who brought such happiness
I plant bright flowers but in my heart I feel rain
For I will never see his little face again

Outside the days stretch on endlessly
My little lost friend once more I long to see
But when I’m quiet and alone I think he must be
Somewhere , out there, waiting for me.

-By Jessica Russell
All Rights Reserved

My Pain is a Rainbow

I think pain should have color!
My pain is a rainbow!
A kaleidoscope!
A smorgasbord!
A hodgepodge of things
That are soft, hard, mushy,
Peeled, burnt, cracked,
But none the less they
Are my things!

-By Elizabeth

Safe Passage

Love speaks your name,
Love holds your hand:
Safe passage, Dear,
Safe passage.

Across the dark
Love brings you home:
Safe passage, cherished one.
Long years of pain are done.
Triumphant soul, o valiant heart,
Your freedom has been won.

And we who bless you now,
Your love within our hearts,
Recall with praise
Your strength and grace and faith
That taught this truth:
Whatever you face,
Be not afraid.
For love will carry you,
Love will carry you,
Love will carry you through.

-By Carol Ann Heckman

Sea of Green

I feel such freedom as I walk
Amid the sea of green
That flows upon the rolling hills.
It is a peaceful scene.
The wind can sing and dance with
Glee and stroke the lea
In waves, you see.
There is no tree to block the flow.
Across the fields thick with grass
They abide in forests,
Lined in rows like sentries, tall.
They stand en masse,
To guard it all,
This sacred space.
To keep its secrets in
This tranquil place.
To only share
With favored few
Who sense its richness
In that wondrous view.

-By Melanie Anderson


Serenity is,
knowing and accepting
that there are things
we’ll never fully understand,
ancient things of the universe
of the mysteries of life and death,
of the human spirit,
that we may never touch.

But serenity also is
knowing that there are things unknowable
and challenging that,
with the curiosity and zest of a child,
with the ability to be awed but not frightened
by the unexplored and the unexplorable.

Serenity is
being free of what-ifs regarding the future
and why-nots regarding the past,
and no longer crying for
these timeless lands
that we can never truly walk upon.

Sereinity is, most of all,
being overjoyed with the present love
that even now
surrounds you.

-By Sharon C. Hawk
All Rights Reserved

Sonnet to a Butterfly

I’d love to be aloft upon the breeze
like rainbowed sprites, my wings with spring adorned,
and drink a tasty nectar with my feet,
eliciting delight, by all adored.
What burdens could a creature such as this,
unfettered, wild and free consent to bear?
What creature blessed with wings could not resist,
the urge to ride the currents of the air?
Who could blame a butterfly for flying?
when in a hard cocoon it fought and won,
the right to stretch its wings in pride and triumph,
against the glory of the dawning sun.

So change within each life makes life remade,
fresh and new and from death’s hand reclaimed.

-By Sharon C. Hawk
All Rights Reserved

The Rain

From my birth on high, I fall from the sky,
to the soil of the Earth below,
all that is living is bathed in my giving,
without me they could not grow.
First comes the green, the stage for the scene,
where a riot of flowers will dance,
the birds find the best, twigs for their nest,
not leaving one leaf up to chance.
Then after the night, gives way to the bright,
first faint rays of the morn,
till some other day, I slip slowly away…
In my wake, a rainbow is born.

By Sharon C. Hawk
All Rights Reserved

The Wind

The wind is sometimes hard or sometimes soft,
but you know what that is? The wind is a feeling that GOD
wants us to feel.

When you feel it on your face, that is GOD
touching you. When you feel it in your ear, that is GOD
telling you something sweet.

When you feel it on your back, it is GOD, he is around
so just take some time out of your busy day to just
hear what GOD is telling you! God is also wrapping his
arms around you to give you a great big hug, and he is
saying I LOVE YOU! That is what the wind is.



If I could step outside of time
For a single day
And float amid a pool of blue
As problems drift away.
To put my duties all on hold
But would I ever be so bold?
To let go of the doing of things,
And glide about on weightless wings,
To soar upon the carefree breeze.
If only I could make time freeze.
I thought about this hard and long.
I know the answer isn’t wrong.
There is a way to make time freeze.
Turn off the noisy cell phones, please.
There is a very simple way,
Just leave your workplace
For one day.
Find a haven of beauty and peace,
A spot where bounding
Thoughts can cease,
Beside the ocean or quiet bay.
Perhaps a park along the way.
Focus on the here and now
And like a child remember how
To feel our life connect and grow
And open to the timeless flow
Of laughter, love and living life,
No place for busyness and strife.
You will become that carefree breeze
And for you right then,
Time will freeze.

-By Melanie Anderson

To Be Divine

To be only human
When I yearn to be divine
To only live on Earth
When the Cosmos could be mine
To be a tiny speck
In this vast Universe
But when that speck creates
It connects with cosmic verse.
It is then I can see
The eternal part of Me,
Mirrored in God‚s face
In this place of endless space.

-By Melanie Anderson

To Little Tree Frogs (or Colloquially Speaking, Peepers)

Ten thousand little voices,
tell of coming spring,
Ten thousand little voices,
of who knows what they sing?
Perhaps of breezes warm,
or the smell of newborn leaves,
of grass just breaking through the ground,
or of flowers yet to be.
Or perhaps they sing of challenges,
some food, a mate, a home,
perhaps they sing of things that only,
they will ever know.
One thing I know for certain,
of the nature of their song,
we know it’s spring that’s singing,
when their voices sing as one.

-By Sharon C. Hawk
All Rights Reserved

To My People

I took lonely,
for a simpler time,
when life had different meaning,
instead of how it is this day
when I feel a desperate longing
for the presecne of others.
The smiling, laughing faces,
of my sister and her husband,
my mother and my Nana–
my small family still together,
the joy of my yesterday,
how I love and miss them!
the first people I ever loved.

-By Sharon C. Hawk
All Rights Reserved

Tree of my Soul

The ill winds are free to blow
Against the supple tree of my soul.
They sow the chance
For my leaves to dance
And swirl about in the force.
Like a tree that stays the course
Against the gales of its life,
I will not fail, or rail at strife
If storms break my branches
I’ll take my chances.
If I’m blown over, I will not die.
I’ll forgive, so my spirit can fly.
Not to fight but to look for the trail
From murkiness to my Holy Grail.
A gap in the woods will let insight
Brighten the forest floor with light.
And show the winds that we are ONE
Where together we’ll live under the sun.
And where my soul can releaf and grow
Trees and breezes CAN blow with the flow.

-By Melanie Anderson


your mask
outside the door
You choose to ring
my bell.”
He said.

I want to see it all
Down to the bone
The Good
The Sweet… and
The Sour
What Truth lies hidden
in your almond eyes?
Who lives behind the windows
to your soul?
Introduce me to
the you
under painted crimson
Unlock your truth
from clenched teeth and
Release the false tongue
of your fictional self
I need to see it all
The Dark
The Sad… and

The True.
If you want me
to come out then
you must meet me too
Are you willing?
If I remove my mask
Then what will you do?
Can you?
Are you still willing
to ring my bell?

-By Elizabeth

Walking Through the Shadows

How do I get there?
Do I follow the shadow of ONE who will lead?

If ONE runs,
Can I walk?
If ONE is tame,
Must I put away my wildness?
If ONE demands,
Must I obey,
Or can I say, “No”?
If ONE offers tidbits,
Dare I ask for more?
If my mind is hungry,
Can ONE fill it,
Or must I enliven my own dead thoughts?
If ONE chooses to go left or right,
Must I choose both to secure my passage?
If ONE threatens abandonment,
Must I provide an offering,
Turn myself upside-down, inside-out,
Or prepare a banquet to entice ONE to stay?

Do I cling to the morals ONE surrendered,
Or numb my mind,
When ONE instills fear with silence?
Should I give voice to the stillness,
Before ONE vanishes?
Do I hush and hold ONE
And pretend not to see,
Or choose to speak and own me?
Is ONE more important than I am?
What happens to the whole,
Of what went before?

Can this frightened, imperfect self,
Find my way on this lone journey,
Speak on my behalf,
Explore my own thoughts,
Find my own balance,
Love myself,
And grow new roots?

Will new rituals hold meaning,
Re-knit the broken cords,
Lift the unspoken sadness,
And fill the empty silences?

Will there be strength
To face illness alone,
To trust,
To love,
To laugh,
To dance,
To sing,
To create,
To preserve meaning from what was?

If I face the fear of self-ownership,
And self-responsibility,
If I attach to my own SHADOW,
Will I feel whole again?


The Waterfall

Deep in the woods there’s a power that yields
to the smallest of trees and stones
but which shapes the foundation of forests and fields
by its force, its soft force, alone.

With a swiftness that slips through the tightest of hands,
with a coolness that soothes the soul’s fire,
by the Earth embraced like a mother divine
and by the mountaintops sired.

Rising and falling, seeking some point,
where the valley descends to the deep
where the caverns carved in the mountains below–
the pools into which Her life seeps.

Look to the woods–there’s a beauty as deep
as any contained lake or sea,
where the waters may run, all boundaries undone,
endless, unfettered and free.

-By Sharon C. Hawk
All Rights Reserved

Why Didn’t I Know?

Why didn’t I know
That my walls of fear
Were formed from litanies of
Worn out imaginings,
Negative self-talk,
Seductive myths,
Unresolved anger,
Stored injustices
And toxic resentments
I accepted or created?

Why didn’t I know,
I was acceptable,
And valued?
Why didn’t I know
That each time I stepped back
To spare another’s feelings,
I surrendered a part of myself?

Why didn’t I know,
Everyone experiences feelings of
Confusion, inadequacy,
Failure and aloneness?

If all that was wasn’t,
Would I still be me?
Or could I be freed to
Repaint my life’s canvas
With new and amazing colors?