This poem reflects a modicum of awareness congealing as I stood on a public transport bus near Euston Station in Central London. I seem to love my every moment in this city. How do I, taking transport,see the innocence of the driver shuttling me? How do I, ambulating one,know my own heart? How do I, [...]

I am one of the silly ones who has made a vocation out of my own psychological, energetic and spiritual awakening. I do not mean a job or career – although – I work in that industry. Rather, I have made arduous labor of my own unfolding. The lines below capture my thinking – rather [...]

While on a cross-country road trip, I listened to a CD version of Sue Monk Kidd’s sweet book The Secret Life of Bees. It was read by a woman with a wonderfully rich voice – and in one of America’s Southern accents. This voice made the book additionally delicious. This silliness of a poem came [...]

You may go volitionally to Glastonbury,but not of your own impetus. If you have gone or should you go, you go at the behest and with the agency of the Goddess. There is no other way.  All who go are called, witting or unawares. Some tarry; some lost, distracted.  Some stayrestoring self and others.  Others [...]

We,archipelagoes each. Born of numinous tides,etherial tectonics. More luminously supple than physically substantive. The sea, metonymy of our provenancebathing our human shores,intercessor of our transfiguration. We ecstatically swoon in would-be grand currents of subductionblithely unaware… And, when seeking elevation… are we really? Erosion and deposition,our natural movements. Which is which? ©2009 Stephen Victor