Call for Poetry

I am putting out a call for poetry to be posted to this blog.

PLEASE SHARE YOUR STUFF WITH ME

If you (or someone you know) is interested, just send your poem (and a related photo if you like),

to this email: ruby@rubyrenshaw.com

along with any links to more of your work and/or the credits you want me to use.

You can do this as often as you like!!

My goal is to post a poem (preferably with a photo) once a week.

The idea is for me to post a “heart-centered-business-related” post once a week and then follow it up with a poem.

The poem does not have to specifically relate to the current business post, but if ANY thread can be seen, that would be good. Otherwise, in general, anything related to current events, breaking thru illusion, creativity, freedom, manifesting, possibility are great themes (“most used tags” towards the bottom of the sidebar are good themes as well).

Let me know if you have any questions and/or suggestions!

Sincerely, Ruby

Sample

Poet Post: Joan of Arc by Carol Denson

When I read Ruby’s Eye of the Beholder post, it reminded me of Joan of Arc who acted in accordance with her spiritual vision and led the French to many victories against the occupying English.  If she had only reacted to the material world, she would have known that a 16 year old girl could not influence the course of history.  Instead she acted upon the Divine Guidance of her spiritual vision and created a monumental change in the physical world ~ Carol Denson

Joan of Arc stands in the garden hearing voices call,

but stares away from them, the three angels –

a red-bearded, golden-armored knight,

a flower-wreathed and gauzy-veiled maiden

whose hands are clasped and head canted, gazing

at Joan, and an indistinguishable baby.

Our heroine has risen from a loom,

her stool overturned, her eyes wide

but seeing nothing as she listens into

the space behind her, its unspoken call.

I cry in the Metropolitan Museum

when I come upon this unsuspecting Joan

by Bastien-Lepage.  I’d seen it once

in Paris or Madrid and the circumstance

of finding it again is startling.

Those years ago, heartsick, and now in playful,

happy love, but neither matters, what matters

is the listening and the house behind –

her parents praying for another fate,

their prayers useless against the call.

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Why Poetry?

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Eye of the Beholder

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