I dreamed I saw Hitler fall into the sun

A poem by Blake Steele

I dreamed I saw Hitler fall into the sun
and even his ashes were snuffed in light,
and with nothing left in evil’s space
a singing tree grew with sunshine leaves.

I dreamed of life consuming death
and children laughing in the place
where selfish darkness once was done
so there was nothing left to grieve.

And day arose in the midst of night
the sun was shining in the stars
as blue grew dim to show the face
of every newborn dancing child.

How beautiful it is to dream,
and feel the dream until you sing,
for this is the power that has made
stars and worlds and everything.

What the author said about it:

To imagine something already done and feel it so clearly that you laugh and give thanks for the miracle of life is to enter the creative processes of the Universe. This is a very exciting way to move from powerless victimhood into co-creating the world with the Wild Divine. It is overcoming evil with good and does good in the mind for sure.

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I am by Drew Trotter

It has been a while since I have posted other than my feature week. Thanks to Drew Trotter, I was completely inspired this evening, thinking about life, all that is, who I am, who we are, and how expansive human beings can be. Thank you, Drew, for giving a little spark to my internal fire.

I am

I am
a myriad of lives
in protest and ecstasy
swimming through new sources and dead ends
In excited, mutable advance
I move in my multitude,
one of the many of my masses.
Not deliberate as seasons change,
but a part of this whole
whirling and convoluted cohesion
forever in flux and dissolution, an endless dance
of revelry in mystery
I move quicksilver lucid dream
born in the wake of earth’s sleep
I double helix from gapped fissure, open wound
of primal mind’s breathing being
I am what I am becoming
more austere and less made
I paint the primal, my pictures and stories,
inflections of the sublime, illuminate the void
In a masquerade of images
etched into the circular curvature
of the communal psych-
An alchemical script, a map of lore
That is the allure, an infinite unfurling
Of mystical moment timeless in space, yet rooted
in the body, blood and heart of being…..

Caleb’s Quest

Caleb’s Quest by Dale Crum


(I encourage you to click on the image for a larger view of details)

The Poem “THE EASTERN SKY” below is the inspiration written by Nathaniel Caleb Crum:

There is a house built out of stone, in a place carved into our minds. This house sits atop a hill, distant, as if it exists outside the boundaries of our reach. In the garden there is a tree, old and gray, the leaves have fallen from its branches. They form remains, in the shapes of stars. This place sleeps, alone, far to the east of what we know. It waits, patiently, as if it dreams of a traveler who never comes. A cold wind blows from the north, and tells us a story of things we will never see. The path that leads to its door has faded with time, and bears no marks of tour. Quiet comforts us here, like a blanket and the fireplace we’ve spent our lives beside. Clouds loom close to the ground, and break only for the celestial lights. Sounds are muffled, and absent. The shadows cast by the clouds seem dark, in a night that is constant, yet brings no evils. We find solace, alone, amongst the familiar and unknown. This is a place where I do not feel alone. To the west a vast ocean stretches for an eternity, and meets the horizon beyond the mind’s eye. The waves crash on cavernous shores below us, but we have nothing to fear. I ask you now, in this moment, to remind me of who I used to be, when I was stronger. In my eyes you see the cruelty of time, which has taken away all the recollection of my days. You tell of the years, names, and faces I once knew so well, when our love was light. Your heart beats as Polaris glimmers, and it guides me home, only for a moment. A fog rolls across the sea now, and it covers us. A light across the water shines from a distance too far to ever be reached. The seasons have come and gone, yet we are unmoved by their passing. This place is home, dark and cold, this place is ours. The sea calls us to the shores of other grey havens, to a world full of infinite possibility, but this world is just illusion, and we are only here in our minds. You are gone now, and the leaves have fallen from every tree…