May 23, 2022


By Amba Gale

The sun is bright today.
The sea is calm,
the water close upon our shore.
The houses on the cliff away
greet the sun in peace.

Nearby, three candles light my
way to day
and tell me I am safe.

Still groundless
int his time of chaos,
I embrace
the groundlessness,
speak that I am well, that all is well.

And all goes to its destination
as though there were a guiding hand.

The tide goes in.
The tide goes out.
the rhythms of the tide are clear.

And life moves towards its
as if
there were a guiding hand.

Additional Poetry

June 20, 2022

Phoenix Ascends

I stop and still myself that I might listen. I stop. Where is the light? Who am I in the face of this dis‑ease? Who are you? What are we to say to a world that has gone mad with grief with war with disarray with avoiding its own waking up? We stop. We rest. We stop that we may ask these questions. We stop that we may amplify that wise voice within that we might hear the guiding notes, the harmonies underneath that will show us the way from here in the middle of these dark woods, that a…

June 7, 2022

Heart Break

When Heart break makes its way toward us from the farthest horizon, we start to close in fear that we will be flattened by the loss, never to stand again. When heart breaks come close like this, we close ourselves, Never to face or feel our wounds. The brittle heart is easy to break. Pain shut off and shoved aside hides in the years until a time when fearless heart we grow and our fierce soul takes on the past, releases all our tears and heals the broken heart. Broken open now. Breaking open, Not apart; This is how I…

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