“Between Worlds” by Vida Vierra

“The moment I faced the inevitable loss of my Father…”

Despite the freshness of this warm
New England morning, I cannot take a deep
breath. The cleansing winds and morning dew fail to penetrate into that realm of the bardo I am traversing.

It is day four of the Hostage Crisis. Francis Xavier, having been captured by Parkinson’s, is now enduring the torture of dementia. He had once remarked to his children “this disease is my prison”. Now sentenced, he lays helpless on the over starched sheets, behind the metal bars of the bed made by fate. Faded flowered smocks press up against his face as rubber gloved hands administer protocols masquerading as “Care”. Through my shallow breath I must gather my courage to once again press that buzzer and enter the security doors of this Purgatory.

After these last three days, I now understand why a guard is necessary.
My heart aches with an unnameable grief.
For three days I have been cursed as a stranger, a threatening shadow being who kisses his trembling hands. I feel like a hungry ghost, longing for the days when we feasted on politics, mystics, and laughter.
Where is the “How to” book for this unprepared moment of Now? Dear God, how can such a giant evaporate before a daughter’s eyes? Hail Mary, can your Grace open a new passage way through this labyrinth? As I turn the corner of these dim lit walls I hover, suspended between heaven and earth. I dare not breathe in the inevitable.

The only sunlit window revealing life as we know it on earth is at the end of his hallway. I chase away the image of the clear, white light. My palms now sweating, I steady my legs unsure if I can withstand another day of rejection. Once again I cross the threshold of his dark, gray room lit only by the blue light of “Jeopardy”.

As I enter the gate for this race against time I summon a deep breath as if I am about to push in labor. I will overcome my life long vertigo. I will jump off that bridge between this world and the next. With my brightest daughter’s smile that

was always his, I dive.

Vida Vierra

Photo by VC Ferry

All Rights Reserved

© 2010

“Yellow-Striped Violin” by Nicole Rigets


The heart rides the strings of the bow
against the silence
Cries escape from a pleasure never known
Now a torturous ecstasy
as passion is released
as passion escapes
in all directions of the soul
Slack-faced, mind driven asunder
in the sonance of a women freshly loved
A woman taken by the powerful
longing of a male presence
clinging to the life of the strings
Joy pulsating!
Veins open
Serenity resides along inner chambers
Nerves become pathways of grace
An awakening at a window
with linens so bright
they light the room.
All Rights Reserved
© 2010

“Short Tones” by Stevie Kalinich

Photo by Bill Duke

when you are
at the end of the world
and no one is there
you swear you will fall off
of the edge
spiral into weightlessness
or crash down to the bottom of the pit
in an endless tunnel
just then
Grace can catch you
lift you
and it is horrendous
a bitch
the crows fly up as you descend
a tiny sliver
of a branch of hope
like a hand reaches out through you to you
and you begin to dance
you know
there is no rising and falling
no up no down
but only the symphonic
revelation
you can never fall out of God…

Stephen Kalinich

Photo by Bill Duke

All Rights Reserved

© 2010

“Illustrious, graceD” by Stephen Kalinich – Happy Birthday Stevie from The Juice Bar!!

illustrious

ILLUMINATED

industrious

imperceptible

snatches

of reality

flash by the screen

of my consciousness

and glimpses are revealed

of a truth so vast

it is impossible to grasp

in one gigantic gulp

or overview

This life is a dimly lit

barely open crack

of what is of

such overwhelming

magnitude

that

we are a whisper

of its word

an echo

of its voice

and all that is

is but a fraction of a fraction

of this

equation

that keeps changing

and rearranging itself

and as it grows

it keeps setting up

new configurations

you can feel it

but not explain it

killers hug and hustle

unfiltered debris

ready to devour

you

falsely accuse you

drop you into hell

heaven is an eye surgeon

that creates a new vision

and you think

you are doing it yourself

he just pulls away the layers

and what is already

in proportion and

itches to implodes and

enters

when

you are off guard

unprepared

naked

you better beware

Jesus is around the corner

in the shoe store

helping blind soldiers and deaf ballerina’s

who do not

handle there self centeredness

they think they are dancing

but they are falling

and may never rise

just what can be given

to souls like these

I say

get out of the way

let the rivers flow

Every Where

is the answer

everywhere is the promise

everywhere is the deceiver

humans

if there are some left

must rally to the cause

Survival depends

upon you each one of you

and we can tip the scale

in the direction

of the Face

of the Grace

that encompasses

all.

Stephen John Kalinich

Photo by Mark Mawston

All Rights Reserved

© 2010

“Seasons Greetings” by Stephen Kalinich

SEASON’S GREETINGS

BE A HEALER

LET ME USE MY MIND

AND ALL MY ABILITIES

TO ALLEVIATE SUFFERING.

LET IT BE MY JOY NOT MY TASK

TO LIFT THE OPPRESSION

OF SICKNESS.

LET ME GRACEFULLY STRIVE

TO DIMINISH PAIN

TO DECREASE ADVERSITY.

WHERE THERE IS DISEASE

LET ME ERADICATE IT.

WHERE THERE IS ILLNESS

LET ME RELIEVE IT-

LET ME TENDERLY NOURISH

ALL WHO COME TO ME FOR HELP

ENABLE ME

TO MEET THEIR HUMAN NEED.

Stephen Kalinich

Photo by VC Ferry

All Rights Reserved

© 2009

“2009” (journal entry) by Stephen Kalinich


Grace will direct your inner path

if you open up to it.
Sometimes it takes letting go

of old mind sets
and trusting spirit to move you forward.
I believe you can create a plan for your life
that allows spontaneity

and freedom
and still has purpose and meaning…
something you have a passion for…
Have courage to face the changes
and let go of attachments
and leave it to the infinite unseen.

I wish you all the best.
Love,

Stevie

Art by Stephen Kalinich

and John Robertson

All Rights Reserved

© 2009