You're reading Poetry Feature

Once upon a distant time
Somewhere in the reach of rhyme

As the flowing ages pass
The world was called a looking glass.

A poem by Vella Karman about how fear is something we use to cover up our wounds, trapping in the pain and infection.

Pale gray clouds drift together, a thick batting blanketing the brain. Moisture collects, clots and fractures into fractals that compile, weighing down the mind and heart and soul until the sweet release of heaven comes raining down…