I rise up into storm sky, writing my poems like fragments of longing that I fold into overlay and slip beneath my cheekbones so that when your hand unfurls to fingers grazing my face, you become the blind man learning longing in Braille, skimming meaning from the message you cannot see but can only feel, were you willing. My eyes that have been called bottle glass and the undertow of the ocean and cat almond look on, telling you nothing, revealing only reflection of the fissure when the lightning finally strikes.

© 2018 Dora E. McQuaid

photographer unknown

All peace to each one of you today.
Dora

 

CONNECT WITH DORA

Connect with Dora on Facebook

Connect with Dora on Linkedin

FEATURED

 Now shipping!

the scorched earth

Order copies here

the scorched earth spoken by Dora E. McQuaid

E-NEWSLETTER SIGNUP

Comments or questions are welcome.

* indicates required field






SUPPORT THE WORK

Dora’s efforts to use her voice as an means of activism and advocacy, social and political engagement and individual and collective empowerment and healing are funded, in part, by her readers. This website provides a wide array of resources to support visitors in exploring and living into their truths, and the support offered in return has allowed Dora to maintain this website as a community-driven, advertising-free space for over sixteen years. If you find that this website offers you inspiration or support, information or resources that benefit you or your community or you appreciate Dora’s voice and efforts, please consider making a contribution to keep her work and art alive. Thank you.
All peace to you.