Archives for 2019

Spirit is Waiting – A Poem

Spirit is Waiting – A Poem

We will all make our way down that corridor into white light where time stands still, death our guide. If you harbour any doubt your body won’t fall to ash—…

Is This Missing From Your Spiritual Practice?

Is This Missing From Your Spiritual Practice?

In a world filled with polarity, hatred, violence, division, and chaos, we can be the bearers and bringers of the light by practicing loving compassion towards ourselves and others. Practicing…

Being discerning in the New Age

Being discerning in the New Age

It’s important not to confuse metaphysical skill with spirituality. Not all people that display strong psychic, healing, or magical abilities have your best interests at heart. Wizardry does not equate…

If Your Soul Could Speak

If Your Soul Could Speak

If your soul could speak, it would say: Dear Friend, You are deeply loved, more deeply than you know. The entire fabric of the Universe is made up of love,…

Birthplace – A Poem

Birthplace – A Poem

They say eventually we’re all drawn back to the place of our birth. We must follow the bloodline. It leads to the gold centre of the heart. Even if you…

Incarnation – A Poem

Incarnation – A Poem

Incarnation, when your soul takes flight, high over the cosmic sky; blue, black, sometimes indigo, the heavens hold you until you enter the womb. Azure, the colour of the sky…

To give you a giggle …

To give you a giggle …

I’m bilingual. English is my native tongue, and I also speak German. I didn’t learn German until I was an adult. When I first moved to Germany I gave medical…

But A Thing Called Time – A Poem

But A Thing Called Time – A Poem

If there were but a thing called time, I’d stretch it out like a long rope; I’d thread it through all my past lives, watch all my human drama on…

A Beautiful Dream – A Poem

A Beautiful Dream – A Poem

I lie in bed, unwell, unable to move my body or head. Paralysed, dependent, like a newborn, or the very old. My husband hovers. I feel sorry for him; a…

Time in Her Eyes – A Poem

Time in Her Eyes – A Poem

How I came to suffering blindly, choking, lungs filled with dirt— bare chest, ballet taffeta and shoes, skin the colour of thick cream, she stamps her tiny feet upon the…

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