She had opened her arms and unleashed nature, allowing it to merge with the threads of the canvas to create shapes that defined nothing but felt like a world.
Mary Gabriel on Artist Helen Frankenthaler, Ninth Street Women
Submit Your Art and Writing to WAVES
“Interiors: Yearning”
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I am the bird
from the wings of the bird
I am the sky
from the wild of the sky
I am all breath
deeply inhaling
I birth all that is
all that was
all that is to come
“Prayer” by Rozann Kraus
When the ache rises in our own throats, we decide to get away. We put out a thumb, hitch a ride in a truck-bed through Amazonia, climb through the Andes, cross a sea of salt that looks like sky, watch flamingoes flap over a red lake, burn our mouths with coca. But however far afield we range, the babies cling to us, polyps, barnacles, the worms that now infest in our bellies too.
“Wanting” by Molly Beer, from Waves: A Confluence of Women’s Voices
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The stories learned during childhood, during daily life together,
Their meanings sacred, protected,
Are sacks of seeds buried in the ground during Winter.
We won’t recover them.
“Unmeasurable Distance Spanning Between Us” by Suzette Bishop
“Wingspan” by Valérie Prot
My creative identity is a way to live a parallel life.
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I was hoping you would
pull up a chair and sit with me.
Me with you.
Offer me that coveted space
at your table.
A spot on the faded shelf
of your heart.
Instead
I left a piece of mine behind.
Jagged. Broken
and the color of rose quartz.
It really catches the morning sun
Through your window.
“Touchstone” by Michelle S. Campbell
