“Who are you?” A voice asked.
I broke from my trance, aware of the soothing warmth of the ceramic mug, the chatter of voices, and the feel of eyes upon me. Qiyamah.
He smiled, repeating himself slowly.
“Who are you?”
Who am I? For that brief moment I knew

I am a nomad of love
Wandering through deserts of despair
Camping in oasis that fade away
Hunting on land full of swift souls
And still I forge on.
I am a warrior of love
Planning the best defense to protect
My heart standing knee deep in false hope
Fighting for a prize I have yet to find
And still I solider on.
I am an artist of love
Molding my burning desires into shapes
Writing a song that dares to be sung
Painting a picture only I can see
And still I dream on.
I am a believer of love
Preaching on theories that have no validity
Teaching a vision of both folk and faith
Praying for something I know must be
And always I move on.
Onward to the final destination.
That I know, that I feel, that I need –
love.

But instead I smiled and said,
“I am a very…simple woman.”

*Nomad of Love ©️ 2004 TaMara E’Lan G.
**Excerpt from
Timeless: Through the Eyes of a Poet by TaMara E’Lan G. ©️ 2018

For my husband, who left too soon. For me, who stayed.

We were building something real.
Something messy and beautiful and ours.
Three years of laughs,
Hard talks, late-night plans,
Tears and kisses and silly fights
That ended in bed or in smiles.

You were my safe place.
My soft landing.
My best friend and my storm.

We said forever in March.
Turned keys to our first home in May.
And in July—
You left me
With a silence so loud
It still rings in my bones.

I watched you go.
I screamed.
I begged.
I broke in ways I can’t explain—
Not even to myself.

You didn’t just die.
You tore the sky open,
And I’m still standing in the wreckage,
Barefoot, bleeding, trying to breathe.

People say “you’re so strong.”
No.
I’m not strong.
I’m shattered.
But I wake up anyway.
I make coffee.
I cry quietly in the shower.
I hold our memories like landmines—
Knowing any one of them can level me.

I loved you too much to be okay.
But I also love you enough
To keep going.

Even when it hurts.
Even when I hate you for leaving me.
Even when I ache for just one more touch,
One more laugh,
One more “I’m home.”

You were the love of my life.
The stepfather who adored our kids like they were your own.
The man who made ordinary things feel magical.
You were it for me.

And now I carry all of that
Inside a heart stitched with grief and fire.

I’m still here,
Still breathing,
Still holding the broken pieces
Of everything we were supposed to be.

And I will keep going—
Not because I’m strong,
But because love like ours
Deserves to survive
Even if one of us didn’t.

Your Word say in Ezekiel 11 verse 19 “I will give them a singleness of heart and put a new spirit in them I will take away their stony stubborn heart and give them a tender responsive heart”, (NIV)

I come now asking for an exchange.

Where there is anger,
Grant me Love.
Where I harbor resentment,
Teach me Forgiveness.
Where there is regret,
Show me Acceptance.
Where I hide my shame,
Give me Honor.
Where I buried my sorrows,
Bring forth Gladness.
Where I have pain
Restore me with Comfort.
When I crumble under doubt,
Rise me up into Assurance.
Where there is Chaos,
Bring my thoughts into Order.
Where there is confusion
Show me Clarity.
Where I may pass Judgement,
Open me up to Compassion.
Where I have pride,
Teach me humility.
Where there is fear,
Give me Faith.
Where there is rejection,
Grant me Detachment.
When I worry,
Give me Peace.
Where there is Long Suffering
Grant me Patience.
Where I lost pieces of myself along the way,
Grant me the Strength, Endurance, Grit, Perseverance and Wisdom to come back, Stronger, wiser, and more Victorious than Before.
Ase

I defrosted winter just to feel your warmth, bearing the storms so you can transform.
The wind carries my name, but you pay it no mind,
As you live in color while I’m left behind.
Each time I think, maybe it’ll be different, I hold out hope, despite what l’ve witnessed.
Another year goes by-wearing me thin.
My tears drown the earth while you soak it all in.
Beneath your bloom, I rot in silence.
I never knew love could be this violent.
.
.
She loved him so much,
that all of April cried so May could blossom.

Dear Unsealers:

It’s the first day of May.

This feels surreal, given that January felt like it happened a century ago. But four months have now come and gone.

As I do, it’s time to welcome in the new month:

A welcome to May
The fifth month of the year

It feels like a lifetime since January
When I wondered, “Why isn’t the year moving faster?!”

Thirty-one new days are here.
With spring blooming, in full flight

The month to honor mothers
To remember those who gave the last full measure of devotion to the country

It’s a blank slate ahead as another calendar page turns
After a busy April of writing poetry & dancing

With warmer days on the horizon
It’s time to emerge from hibernation.

like a flower
she grows and blooms
nourishing the world around her
she colors the earth
with her petals
reminding you to
take a moment and breathe

she’s wild
and free
just there to be
to be loved
admired
touched
and most importantly
she’s there as a blessing
from mother herself
to show you creation
the divine
how soft yet powerful
you can be

This gig
This “being my best self” business,
This sunny day after the storm
Is pretty rough.
With wind blown trash from last week
(Or last decade) all over the soul
It is exhausting today, to
Focus on today’s business.

Some other day will be enchanting, Exhilarating,
I’ll be Wonder Woman
Or
Maybe I’ll be just enough, ok?
And putting one foot in front of another will come a little
Easier, next day
Even if Van Der Klok assesses the score and my kind intentions are a bit lopsided today, and my hair;
There will be
Another day
For me.

These conflicting emotions and thoughts always get the best of me and take control. Sinking their teeth into my brain, releasing their venom so it’s always on my mind. I want to just give up and stop trying to take back control. Just give in completely. Let it all go. I’m so tired of trying to hold on and it’s useless anyway. I may or may not have put up a good fight, but the war was fought and the battle is done. It has won. This is the time to surrender and admit defeat.

Prowriting aid style score: 100%

All those years of being trapped by words unable to hear the birds.
All those years of being suffocated to speak unable to reach the highest peak.
All those years of sitting alone waiting to be grown.
Waiting to break free from what was thought to be rock bottom.
All those years of discomfort and uncertainty led me to today,
Full of triumph and determinedly.

Every morning
I thank the little ray of sunshine inside of me.
The one who believed life could still be something extraordinary.
Even when the brutality of the world was enough to gnaw her up & spew her out.
Even when the cliff was right at her fingertips to end it all.

That little ray of sunshine still chose life
& I’m forever in debt with her.
I owe it to her to make something remarkable & gentle of myself.

On the days I’ve succeeded,
I gently put my hand on my heart
& softly speak the words, “this is for you” to her!

“Do you have any sage advice for me ” my friend asked after we discussed a beautiful solo act of spoken word combined with the playing of the Harp. The talented performer is a woman named Amanda Peckler. I thought about my friends question, taken aback with honor – and a bit of imposter syndrome.

My head spun with the amount of answers I could say; I gave so many answers to his one question, I could not even remember what I said.

“I envy your way of thinking,” he said.

“You admire it, not envy.”

After sincerely crediting my mentors for the ability to think the way I do, I explained:

“Most of the time, we can try what we envy:

Next time you envy someone for their talent, change it to admiration.

Inevitably you are going to struggle the first time; just remember:

Even the advanced were once beginners.

You’ve been my shadow for as long as I can remember, lurking in the corners of my mind, whispering doubt, exhaustion, and fear into every crevice of my soul. You’ve made yourself at home in my thoughts, convincing me that stillness is safety, that failure is inevitable, and that I am nothing without you.

But I see you now. I see how you twist my reflection, how you tangle my dreams in barbed wire, how you drag your fingers through my happiness just to watch it unravel. I hear the lies you tell me—that I’m not good enough, that I’ll never change, that I should just give up. And I won’t pretend your voice isn’t loud. It is. Some days, it’s all I hear.

But guess what? I’m still here. I’m still writing, still fighting, still daring to want more than the prison you’ve tried to build around me. You’ve stolen too many moments, too many dreams, too many days where I could have felt joy but instead felt only your weight pressing down on my chest.

So, I’m making something clear today: You don’t get to win.

I won’t say you’re gone, because I know you’re always lurking. But I will say this—I am learning to live around you, despite you, and in defiance of you. Every time I write, every time I create, every time I move forward even when you’re clawing at my ankles, I am reclaiming myself.

You are not me. You are something I carry, something I battle, but you do not define me.

I do.

And I choose to keep going.

Sincerely,

Me