Confession
Braided Way Magazine
by Erika Takacs
3d ago
I’m an incarnational kind of girl. Give me a body, some dust of the earth, and I’ll tell you why it is beautiful. I began as a child of the mind, squinting to see eternity tucked behind the merely mortal, straining out gnats and camels. In time, after the wounding, I came to see the grace that flickers within the world, learned a thing could be as hallowed as a thought. When your musings spin into dissolution or leave me paddling through pointless clouds, I rejoice in falling back down to earth. There is so much here to put words to. Chocolate on the tongue, tree trunks dark with rain. The gre ..read more
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I See You
Braided Way Magazine
by Laura Lentz
1w ago
Chaunce’s light was so bright the first time I met him, I had to shield my eyes. He was shirtless in October in Pennsylvania, smoking a cigar and laughing at my rage. His laughter made me pause. Even from a distance, there was something about his eyes that made me look closer before lifting another trash bag filled with all the contents of my kitchen, and tossing it into the trash bin. Throwing out my kitchen was transformational for me. I was throwing out my kitchen for generations of women who couldn’t be contained by a home or a traditional marriage. I was nineteen and angry and trapped. Un ..read more
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The Song of the Sycamore
Braided Way Magazine
by Robert Wilson
1w ago
There is a great sycamore tree in Brady Lake, Ohio, that sings all winter. Not everyone can hear it, but to those who can, it is a song lovely beyond words. All day the appaloosa-patterned tree catches the low winter sun in its white upper limbs and turns all that light into music, even as motorcycles roar past on the road between the tree and the lake. From the top branches, if you looked over the little hill, you see where the Spiritualist Camp used to be. The Spiritualists came in the 1800’s. I suppose they thought this a good place to commune with the dead. Perhaps it was the singing of th ..read more
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The Present Interior
Braided Way Magazine
by Yuan Changming
2w ago
For now let’s forget all troubles & miseries In this world of red dust, forsake our family &  Friends alike, forgive each & every other’s debts & wrongdoings as well as our own sins; for now Let’s not get stuck to our pasts or try squeezing  Into our futures, foreseeable or otherwise Where we may easily become too lost in  Character as in imagination; for now, just  Let it be, including everything & everybody While the little cloud above the horizon drifts Along, & the tiny fish keeps bubbling on & off In the creek; for now let’s stop & separ ..read more
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The eye in sky
Braided Way Magazine
by Nico Peck
3w ago
O dim sky. O constellation of voices. Let us lift our hearts to the liminal. Praise be to the sorrows, the confessions,  the despair disrupted by draining  the personality-reflection pool. What am I learning here? How to blaze out in tears? How to watch my days fade? How to depart life empty  of everything but grief? How to be like the rock I sit on: may we mark each other’s graves, this stone and I. may we watch over each other until all else fades. What I want is not possible, is as reckless as my species – so let me lie back  and breathe the sky into song  and weave ..read more
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Adoration Lite
Braided Way Magazine
by LA Felleman
3w ago
My body in recline contains a chamber housing monks draped in saffron robes chanting OM as one. (The first time it happened I got out of bed, curious to hear which note my body hummed. According to my keyboard –middle C.= I tapped it repeatedly to be sure  Some part of my mind deciding “How appropriate”) I tried to explain to my spouse,  “It’s a kind of adoring” His reply, “Like a Taylor Swift fan catching sight of the star?” I rejected the giddy bounce of his analogy. “More like swinging a door wide finding my best friend on the other side.” Or that moment in the grocery store disco ..read more
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Stories To Save The Planet
Braided Way Magazine
by Marijo Grogan
1M ago
One morning I climbed out of my shell and decided to face the climate emergency. Having been active in peace and justice circles, I wondered why I felt so much reluctance regarding the greatest threat our species has ever faced. Then it became clear. Old-fashioned prophets stand on the corner preaching doom. I know it is important to listen but I want something else. I long to welcome another kind of prophet: the trickster, the court jester, the magician. They are capable of turning the world upside down and discovering hope under disaster, even joy in the corners of our collective psyches. Th ..read more
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Tendrils
Braided Way Magazine
by Katherine Smith
1M ago
It is all so close to nothing this morning,  the long hours of teaching, the coming home  to plant in thunder and heat lightening  until the sky breaks open and I’m soaked.  Inside, I bathe, dry off, then go back  to grading essays for the thirtieth year in a row.  I taught all July, students from Sudan,   Germany, Palestine, Syria, Korea, the UK.   I am at home among my students. Among  the semesters that pass like a nomad’s tents,   folded and unfolded, another mile   walking the dog, another poem.  My own histor ..read more
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One Dollar And Thirty-Two Cents
Braided Way Magazine
by Sylvia Baer
1M ago
“I did something terribly wrong, I just know it,” I sputtered between sobs. It was a Saturday in early January 1960, I was nine years old, living in Passaic, New Jersey, and sitting in my best friend Patty’s living room. She had convinced me to tell her mother my problem. “Did you commit a sin?” Mrs. Ingrassia asked, handing me a glass of water and a fresh white embroidered hankie. I wasn’t sure what a sin actually was, but I knew what I had done was against the law. I had just become a brand new citizen and read all about the laws in the handbook I needed to study ahead of time. “I think I mi ..read more
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All Separate, All One
Braided Way Magazine
by John C. Robinson
1M ago
A single consciousness fills the universe flowing through what appear to be different forms, like light through magnificent stained-glass windows, giving each “thing” its unique qualities – rose distinct from the swallow, willow from a butterfly, rock from a fountain, but in the end, all one Creation. Understanding this to be reality, an amazing opportunity materializes: intimate relationships with extraordinary beings all equal, all divine, all different yet one. None considered inferior or inanimate. They become our teachers, friends, guides, and consolers. The cosmos waits for us to take ou ..read more
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