daily struggles
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A balm upon an angry wound A quite impromptu hymn A whisper amongst shouting The silence of the din. A caress amongst the beatings A tear that grazes stone A single bird without a cage A mending of the bone. A sparkle in the velvet A well in barren land A lily in the valley…
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The first post in “The True Sacred Space” series is up on S.D. My new short story is going into its second draft. News on one of my older writing projects is also forthcoming.
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A new series is debuting on Superlative Deviation. It’s going to be lots of fun!
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Prayers of those who fight from the trenches Rescued on wings invisible And propelled forward with blinding speed Infinite creation bands together in a single voice Songs sung since ancient times Enemy of the darkness which seeks to claim our souls Poetry Copyright © 2021 by Ena Whiteraven All rights reserved. Image: found online photographer…
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A moving picture postcard, animated scenery, and dramas taken from the pages of a scripted comedy. What is it you see? Just what you expect: Material from Vaudeville and conveniences that lack All purpose, life, and passion – Set designs so cold and wooden. Who is there behind it? Who has fed the Beast? Who…
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No blind infatuation nor momentary thrill Can touch the steadfast heart, The loyal truth that pulses To a starry drumming of infinite rhythm. Nothing can restrain it! Human words are meaningless, Falling on deaf ears that only seek the guidance of Heaven. A group of souls united In the exploration of worlds, They are the…
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Heritage replaced with agendas Unvarnished truth replaced with convenience Warmth and joy replaced with icy stares Growth replaced with competitive stagnation The proof, it screams! The eyes unveiled. Such a burden they often bear Minds filled with endless queries Scavenger hunts that last an eternity Ridiculed and cut down, yet they still persevere Their questions…
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Weighted and shackled, I struggle on Knowing the cost of surrender is high Endless worlds spiraling outward As Divinity’s quill passes by I beg a little of that inspiration A chance to recapture that childhood dream Then carried on a distant breeze, a whisper “Take heart. Things are not what they seem.” From here, I…
Ena Whiteraven 