The Wounded Warrior

Write, she says, you have to keep writing. To write is to go to war. Go to war with who I am and who I was and who I’m supposed to be. But who am I supposed to be? Am I supposed to be anyone or am I supposed to be me? In a resistance…

Read More

He Calls Her Ahava 

You call her a dirty slut You whisper “cheap whore” as she walks by Words echo in the long hallway of a high school Words echo in the tender spirit of a 16 year old girl

Read More

Red Book Jackets

She longed to be in a room by the sea Clean, but cluttered with old furniture and books with red covers Left laying open to where she last stopped reading Where they could lie together in the morning Looking out at the ocean with no agenda, no plan Just there, for as long as they…

Read More

Beholding Each Sacred Image

Last year, one of my clients shared an “I Am From” poem during our session. I was stunned. She invited me into a rich tapestry of precise images, many that I could taste and smell. With each image, I was brought deeper into the soil of where she’s been planted. “I Am From” poems were…

Read More

The Light of Empathy

The downtown central library in San Antonio is lovingly referred to by locals as the “Enchilada.” The color of its skin can only be likened to the chili con carne sauce draped over a steaming plate of enchiladas. There are multiple floors to this library and extensive collections, and the most recent addition is a…

Read More

Triumph

Against odds spring’s first sign comes winter’s coldest day. Against odds this delicate bloom breaks earth’s strong barrier. Against odds pure, white light shoves the darkness away. Against odds spring cannot come without enduring winter’s cold. Against odds she, like me, was created for this. Marit Krueger has lived in the Seattle area all her…

Read More