The Holy Rocks

The Holy Rocks By Maria Fokas The rocks hidden in the sky – They are not silent in my presence. They stretch as far as the eye can see; A reflection in the horizon: An element of past rememberance. A stir of wondrous light. No strangers here– As dusk sets in – I can hear them, The bells ring, in the empty light of warmth; beneath my feet.   Continue reading The Holy Rocks

The Bridge to the Other Side:

                                                                              Photograph by Maria Fokas Setting of Beneath the White Willow – Novel by Maria Fokas Promise me, you will do the things we dreamt of doing together  Promise me, and if we ever meet again – I promise to make things right. . . . Darkness has taken hold of me; there is no plea for my weakness  But I will not forget: The times you held my hand, when I was far above the ground The times you held on, when I disappeared into the underworld And if by chance, you ever trip and fall; For doubt … Continue reading The Bridge to the Other Side:

Crazy Love

Crazy Love Have you ever heard of such nonsense . . . + There cannot be only one truth; the truth as an answer to a question? – What makes the sun shine and the winds blow; do all things rest upon it; asking and answering the question yourself. . . In the depths of dreams, it could be a will to be remembered. The heart knows what the mind can’t fathom . . . But then again, the heart seldom knows much of anything, until the ink drops.   © Maria Fokas / 2015/All Rights Reserved – Illustration by … Continue reading Crazy Love

Somewhere only we know

Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning’s hush I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry; I am not there. I did not die. Mary Elizabeth Frye (1905 – 2004)    Photographs by © Maria Fokas 29/7/2015/All … Continue reading Somewhere only we know

A Thousand Years

It happened on the thousandth year; From the center core of all our tears It stirred the darkness into light Souls were born from the depths of night: A raging struggle; just to hold on Like grave many times before With doubtful eyes he smiled at me – But one cold night, he could not sleep; My hope had touched his lips Out of the dream he ran to me But time had given up on him That mundane morning: Like the journey of a butterfly I awoke, with no more tears in me My darkness had surrendered By the … Continue reading A Thousand Years

The Sword

The Sword by Maria Fokas My mind in helpless roam Antique dreams and harp whispers; Between losing and winning Hearts wintered in leaves that float ashore Shallow rays of dizzy lights – Mirrored in the dead of night I close my eyes again; The sword falls from my hand A word sharper than a sword Before we turn to stone. © Maria Fokas 2015/All Rights Reserved / Image: Gladiaotor/Warrior Stock Continue reading The Sword

Soul Mate

Soul Mate by Maria Fokas “Eat, Pray, Love: A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave. A soul mate’s purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of … Continue reading Soul Mate

The Art of Waiting

The Art of Waiting by Maria Fokas A hush beneath the sea, whispers into each string of night; precisely, and endlessly. Dreams bend back on themselves, like fragile circles hoping to be traced. Where the two ends meet, the dream is nurtured; where the two ends part, the taste of sweet love remains – Each of the two circles is true, but the truths are not the same. And as the night wakes, our sun disappears beneath the earth; once more, no rest in waiting. The sea turns from deep blue to bright red; reaching words from land to land and … Continue reading The Art of Waiting