The muse touches upon me lightly as I chase inspiration in flights of fantasy, interpreting each dream in words, my awareness is blanketed by snow falling, each crystalline structure unique blending into sameness, collective consciousness covering individualities, quietly embracing trees, buildings, the ground, gently bonding to shine white with a frozen gleam of ice, how … Continue reading The Winter Flight: Cassandra Kulay

Daffodils and quiet tea, an ordinary day for you and me. On my blouse, the embroidery sings, a song of pattern and freedom, a squirrel scrambles up a tree, from the window the tail disappears. Dappled sunlight falls on the table, I want to experience it all with you, as long as I am able. … Continue reading Peaceful Time: Cassandra Kulay

The cat cries, the witches scry, The cauldron steams and bubbles, Spells to remove or fix your troubles. The moon is full in a starry sky, ask How but do not ask why, a doll, An amulet, a bird to sacrifice, the Building chants fuel their power, As near we pull to the witching Hour, … Continue reading Witches’ Brew: Cassandra Kulay

A slight bite of cold hides the moment Of recognition – do the far trees cry For what was done in a state of pain And panic, which cannot be undone? For some years, you were to sparkle Like champagne bubbles, effervescent And haloed with the variables of dreaming Latent love, your sapphire eyes and … Continue reading Alternatives: Cassandra Kulay

It is difficult for us to trust after what has happened to each of us, what turns feelings to rust only experience left to teach, no medicine, no salve, no balm, in all our memories we reach for some perfect way to tell the story of our lives to mean we carry burdens and we … Continue reading Finding Yourself: Cassandra Kulay

In the bizzare realm of destabilization Only the heart is clear despite changes, Its beat regular in defiance of all wishes, To be dying of boredom, dying of humiliation, Dying to the point of irregularity, dying of Thwarted ambition, easily, cosily dying of Trepidation, of exhaustion, of despair. To be dead is a stillness the … Continue reading Clear: Cassandra Kulay

I haven’t known what to say, what is right, I do not know. To say what I want will hurt and the healing is uncertain. To be silent against the odds is to forget the sound of my own voice or the feel of my purpose. Silence is as beautiful as it is threatening. Fearful … Continue reading Belief: Cassandra Kulay