Finally on my way to yes
I bump into
all the places
where I said no
to my life
all the untended wounds
the red and purple scars
those hieroglyphs of pain
carved into my skin, my bones,
those coded messages
that send me down
the wrong street
again and again
where I find them
the old wounds
the old misdirections
and I lift them
one by one
close to my heart
and I say holy,
holy.
"Whose voice calls me from the furthest reaches of the universe?"
Exploring the vital intersection of healing arts and indigeneity with Egyptian international interdisciplinary sound artist
A poem by Palestinian refugee Nibal Khalid
She, who speaks in climactic seed bursts of inspiration and steady sunrises the color of commitment.
Amid the cacophony of a cicada emergence, Anisa George reflects on her choice to leave the Bahá’í faith and its promise of a new civilization
Plenitude of sound / Infinitude of words / Transform within
But Ukraine is a country of the baroque
No matter how sick I feel, I’m still afire with a need to do something for my living
