12 April 2008
The Door is Always Open To My Creativity  by Kathy Tilghman Kluge

The Door is Always Open To My Creativity by Kathy Tilghman Kluge

Where does my creativity come from?
I don’t know how to speak about a lifelong pursuit of the creative writing life. I have been on this journey for many years, approximately 30. I have had many questions along this path, but the answer to a question that has always eluded me is this: how do I access more of my creativity? How can I become a better writer? It’s a mysterious question, granted, with probably a different answer for each writer who has ever written.

I want to know where to find my creativity and how to access more of it in order to write well. Where does my creative juice originate? Where can I tap into that flow? Is there a “creativity fountain” similar to the enigmatic (but nonexistent) fountain of youth located in a non-local, place? Once I find it, how can I revisit it and tap into its magic any time I want---forever?
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11 March 2008
Inner Beauty Walks Beside Me

Inner Beauty Walks Beside Me

Inner Beauty Walks Beside Me
Beauty within
Beauty inside me
Flowing and increasing
Alongside me
I am my own friend
Giving to myself
My love
Respect
My joy that I so deserve
Makes me happy
And makes me whole.
I am me.
                             by Joy Weissman
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25 April 2006
I Am She, Your Mirrored Self

I Am She, Your Mirrored Self

I Am She, Your Mirrored Self, Poetry by Jean AloeOkay-so I am entering the 21st century with this!
Writings in Litchfield
Poetry by Jean Aloe after returning from one of my  women's retreats at Wisdom House, Litchfield Ct. 
- 1-
it’s dour outside
overhead
a scarf of gray
unwinds itself
the oaks and maples
struggle to bud
even the doves
are silent….yet
beneath my feet
a lone tulip lifts
its yellow face to mine –
I smile back
- 2-
we come together
like pieces of a puzzle
scattered on the floor
patiently a hand places
each of us
where we belong
here….right here
a whole picture forms
- 3-
my feet planted firmly
sprout green roots
my heart unfolds
pastel petals
my hands strong vines
covered with blue wishes
I am woman – golden
- 4-
unannounced
my spirit guide
comes shrouded
in a long dark cloak
with trepidation
I rise and face her
she calls to me
Sangin – sister
astounded I search her face
Mira? I query
Yes she answers
I am she –your mirrored self

(Thanks for reading....Jean)
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