Inner Wisdom Guide Jennifer Boire

Trees Lose Parts of themselves inside a circle of fog, Francis Ponge, translated by Robert Bly Inside the fog that encloses the trees, they ...

we are the bones of our mothers, we come from the bones of our mothers, we are starved for the cellular lustre of our mother's listening...

My personal trainer and I had a chat about women and migraines today. I said, I think it's so common because we hate our bodies, hate ou...

O may is the month of our mother the glorious (something) of May.... we used to sing that in our two room school house, Our Lady of Perpetua...

Poetry Readings in April, rundown: last Saturday night in Portland Ontario, at the Legion Hall, a rousing round of poetry by John B, from LA...

here be green leaves, here be April rain and tulips, moss on trees and grey skies, oh heart that wanders, find your peace in rootedness, eve...

Back from New York, I found this on my desktop. Never sent it out to be published, so will post it for you to read of my harried life a few ...

So, the day before Easter, dark rainy skies. Droplets of water hanging off the young oak in front of my window. It's too early to get up...

Mothering the Muse -musings on finding creative space published in Q-Write Newsletter of Quebec Writers Federation “All writers are vain, se...

musemother Well, I forgot how to get back and post another blog, so can't say as I am an expert yet at blogging. It's already been 2...

On any given day, a woman is either menstruating, having PMS, or entering peri-menopause and having hot flashes or cool insights into the na...