Vanishing Point by Melissa Grossman
“Vanishing Point” by Melissa Grossman It is not miles ahead of you where the road narrows. It is not a mountaintop covered by low clouds. Nor, the columns of trees that grow smaller farther down the street. It is a gam of whales swimming just below the shimmering surface of the ocean, and you are whale, and you are water. It is that cloudless blue sky when birds disappear into the deep brightness, and you are...
At Butcher’s Slough by Simona Carini
“At Butcher’s Slough” by Simona Carini (Arcata Marsh & Wildlife Sanctuary) No ducks ply the slough No great egrets glide. Wrung out clouds pattern the marsh in light ink. Air as crisp as cave-cooled watermelon. Silence ambushes me in this quiet place of still water, wood pilings— remains of a mill— an old railway track. If my worries could ride away! My lungs catch a scent I am an egret sensing fish just...
Cathartidae by Lynn Tudor Deming
“Cathartidae” by Lynn Tudor Deming They were feeding on its torso, a yearling By the road in its mottled winter coat, Long hair grizzling the face so its muzzle Was thickened, more like a dog’s–the eyes open. Drawn from their thermals by the scent of death, They straddled the ribs with their talons, White beaks plucking the flesh, a flock Of silent purifiers with no syrinx. When a car passed they rose...
Perfect Kernel by Mary Stike
“Perfect Kernel” by Mary Stike On the house roof, the mild November wind blows my hair as fine as spider’s breath across my face and I find on the rough grey shingles’ surface, a perfect kernel of bright yellow corn. I know my spirit sister visits me, watches me and leaves her golden gift of sustenance and care. Above, a crow, in ascendance in his own web that takes in our garden, scavenged stalks cut down...
Glide by Ginny Mahar
“Glide” by Ginny Mahar I walked out the back door of the house, fifteen years old with a pair of white leather ice skates looped over my shoulder. Down the hill and through the valley of the yard, I passed remnants of a snowman in a heap amid a Michigan-winter’s worth of snow. Beyond, a wall of long-needled pines opened into a meadow. Long coral ribbons of the day’s last light wove through the sky:...
This month’s edition of WAVES is dedicated to our creative sisters whose spirits burn for their art while they are in the fight of their lives.
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How is artistic expansion the antidote to our worldly challenges?
Submit Your Art & Writing to WAVES
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We meet each other in waves of light, waves of vision, waves of sound–a studio beyond boundaries.
Creative sisters, shoulder to shoulder, shore to shore.
This time, there is no setting our art aside. This time, there is no setting our art asunder. This is our time.
December 6-7 | oneness | noon to noon EST | dip in and out throughout this twenty-four hour wave
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the antidote Oct 31, 2025
