Nurture ~ The Strix


Art by: ApleJohn at JuanderingArtist  (I LOVE this art he created for this post!)

I chose the topic “nurture” for this next collaboration from the Strix. This time, I kept my interpretation short and sweet with a haiku. My fellow contributors again bring their lovely words. Do check them out when you have the time. 🙂



Unfortunately, Zigyasa and Kashaf weren’t able to join this time at our collaboration for Nurture, a wonderful topic chosen by Emily. Grateful and happy Manuel was able to step in at the last minute and also excited and honored Jonathan accepted our invitation to create a piece of art for The Strix.

We hope you will enjoy these pieces of art, as much as we feel during the creation process.

~ Patty


Nurture ~ Haiku

your tender hands touch

love breaks walls, defense crumbles

my heart’s scars soften

~ Emily C.

~ from PoetGirlEm



How bleak and empty looks the future

Without your tender, loving nurture

That you pour out upon me so freely

Like mother with bade in her fine arms

Keeping it soundly safe from all harms

Such that I cannot fail to be thankful

And in your loving presence gleeful

For the compassion you give liberally

And in your nurture my nature is full

To be what I was always meant to be

Yes . . .

How bleak and empty looks the future

Without your tender, loving nurture

~ Jonathan N.

~ from NobleThemes



To feed and protect,
No neglect.
Beyond nurturing one’s offspring,
Completely unstring.

Encourage and support,
Visions distort?
During and after our development,
No evidence of detriment.

Bring up, train and even educate;
Taught to be immune to hate.
Above and below nourishment,
Positivity, flourishing.

Breeding, upbringing;
Are your ears ringing?
Not yet?!!!
Let us try again; Play the cassette!!!

~ M. O.

~ from EmotionsOfLife


Nurture ~ Mirrored Elfje

The earth
Flora and Fauna
All beautiful species within
All negativity with love
Filter and absorb
The rain

~ Patty W.

~ from Mimosa Pudica


Expression Crossing Continents



Topic by Emily
Featured Image by AlpeJohn
Logo by AlpeJohn 


Dream ~ The Strix

Our third post from The Strix is on the topic: Dream. Well…that’s a word that can be interpreted in any direction, and as usual we all have our own take! I hope you enjoy our latest installment, and do check out my group mates’ blogs for more of their great work.

Namaste, Em



It’s never wrong to want something every day of your life, to chase, to find comfort in the uncomfortable, as you wait… As you dream…
– Cezane


Go ahead, fly with your wings of imagination

Would you please today, smile for no reason

Be a super soul, save lives around the world

Must you fight the fire, like you are the fire yourself

Dive in the ocean, dare to swim along with the whales

Swing with the waves, like you are the waves of high tide

Be bold my dear, take a shower under the waterfall

Let the white water absorb all the filth to cleanse your soul

Would you sing a song my dear, even if there is no music

Just search inside a little and be the music yourself

Pick a quill today, make it dive into the pot of colorful ink

Let your thoughts imprint, make that paper worthy

Today, must you forget the sins of the silly

Be wise enough to forgive, like you’re forgiving a little child

Today, be the one, you’ve always aspired to become

Inject a little power to your soul, to your running blood

Go ahead my dearest

Dream today with your eyes open wide

Just dream of the impossible

Let your dream become your sight, your reality

By Zigyasa Kakkar from MYSESTINA


A fairytale, a love story,

A person, a sweet memory,

A life I want, I want to be alive,

So into the dream world I dive!


She is a dreamer, a day dreamer. She day-dreams at night too! She sleeps not, because she is planning. She is working out a way to live the life she wants. A dream, no one would have dared to dream, she dreams wide awake. Her thoughts wander away, in lands unknown, in places wanting to be seen. Those worlds beg for her presence and she giggles as she knows who she is. She smiles away her past and pushes those memories far. She is a new girl, with a new dream, with a much newer, better life waiting for her. She is strong enough to conquer her fears, conquer her emotions. She is strong enough to break all chains, boundaries and set herself free, before her soul leaves her body. She knows she has to do this and so she is still alive. Her dream is a reason to live, her dream is what she will live, and so she is still awake. Wide eyed in the middle of the night, planning and thinking and dreaming and wondering, her sheer imaginations, in her eyes, sparkling bright!


Her hands pained no more. She held the knife tight in her hands, and her fingers bled. She was about to do something she should not be doing. She was committing a sin. She was killing herself, her dream. She was taking away a beautiful life of a beautiful girl, which God had made for her. God had blessed her with life, but she was not ready for it. Her eyes were red and swollen, her skin twitching every inch. Her skull was exploding with pain, and the rest of her body was numbed. Her temples overly exposed the stressed nerves and sweat trickled down them. She cried no more, but looked into the space without looking. Something stopped her, held her there. Her life was not ready to leave her. She was not strong enough to commit a sin so bad!

You would not do it if you were strong.

A small voice in her head whispered.

You have a dream, your ego, and your soulful life. You can live that dream, you can live your imagination, you fearless stubborn girl!

The voice continued. But she was bothered; she was bothered with some flashes of memories, those visions in front of her. The hateful faces, the loveless people, drained all energy out. She gritted her teeth and groaned with pain, as chills ran down her spine. The numbness left her skin. And she felt her hands wet with blood. She pulled up the knife to her wrist. I hate seeing blood. I hate anything vulnerable. I am a warrior. I will fight to live this life. I have a DREAM. I am egoistic enough to live my dream before my soul leaves. I am not weak. And the knife fell from her clasp, with a dull clink on the ground, now a pool of red. She flinched at the sight. She was dizzy. She had to cry, to let her tears out.

So she did.

The whole night.

But she lived.

And she lived her dream too….




By Patty Wolters from KRUIDJE-ROER-ME-NIET


To dream 

to fly to wish
To think to see to feel

Slipping into ethereal realm
Surrendering from real
To land of limitless possibilities
Of adventures far and free
No one to stop my imagination

Not even me…

Conquering impossibility
Flying through bluest skies
Soaring along wake of raging seas
To dip my toes in tropical sand
Or kiss my love on offered hand

To dream to explore to believe
To seek to adventure to be…

No matter how big or vast
the mind can see the paths

At night when drifting deep
Subconscious playground of sleep

To dream to ponder to play
Where thoughts go to stay…

And roll through ideas, wishes
The lists of endless bliss
Sometimes we bury in daylight
Allowed to resurface at night

When our walls are down
Our truths come out
the “if only” and “what ifs”
should and could haves

Uninhibited desires
Love quests, inner fire
That light the heart
The mind, the soul

And when we wake
unhindered, unlocked

We have the chance
To make it real

The power…
All our own

By Emily Clapper from PoetGirlEm


While Gregg, Meg, and Creg were busy arguing who’s going to be the best chicken, Pegg was lost in his contemplation.
“I’m not going to be a chicken, rooster, or any ordinary cock”, he thought. “I’m going to be extraordinary; surpassing what is expected of me. I will be a peacock!”

In this world, nothing is too impossible. Your dream is the only limit, so dream BIG!




When you go to sleep at night,

That’s when your dreams awake,

They dance and sing in your heart and mind,

They take your sorrow away.

Your dreams are precious so keep them alive,

Even in your darkest hour,

Think of them, they’ll give you a smile,

And fill you with renewed power.

It may be difficult at times,

But if you keep believing,

The cloud will clear and your dreams would shine,

And put an end to all your grieving.

You just need to put your faith in them,

Allow it to fuel you,

Your hard work and effort will pay in the end,

That’s when your dreams will come true.

By Michelle Joseph from PSYCHEDELIC BAY


The power to turn one’s dream into reality lies within the heart of those who prioritise in helping others achieve theirs… Build bridges, life ain’t a highway.
– Cezane


Expression Crossing Continents

Metamorphosis ~ The Strix

For the next topic for The Strix, it was my turn to suggest an idea. Metamorphosis came to mind, and just like always, there are so many ways to interpret that. I hope you enjoy what we all came up with. Again, we don’t read each other’s work before submitting, and so it is always like opening up a beautiful present to see what our minds come up with.

Ever changing, yours….



Biological speaking an example is the butterfly. Evolve out of the caterpillar into a butterfly happens automatically, it’s a natural process. The caterpillar trusts in the power of nature, trusts her own instinct, and becomes a wonderful creature.

Mythological speaking an example is Zeus, God of Ancient Greece, who transformed himself into a bull to seduce Europe, a goddess of love. He succeeded and brought Europe to a strange continent and left her. Aphrodite, Goddess of love, found her there and said:

“Let the bridle and grumbling, pretty girl! The hated bull will come and offer you his horns; I’m the one who sent you this dream. To your consolation, it is Zeus that robbed your virginity: now you’re the earth goddess of the invincible god. Immortal your name will become, since the strange continent that has absorbed you, shall be called from now on Europe! “

Magical speaking wizards and witches transformed various objects and people for good and bad purposes. A Prince turned into a frog by a witch, could only transform back after a kiss from a Princess.

We don’t have the powers of wizards and witches, gods and goddesses.
We do have the power to think, to transform to whoever we want to be.

Who do you want to be?

Patty from Kruidje-roer-me-niet


It had been there for days. The small, mint green bud, hanging by a small stem, on a small plant in her backyard. Lilly wondered what Mr. Tiger was planning. She called him that because he was black with vivid green stripes all over that reminded her of a tiger. He had hidden himself inside that thing for more than a week. Lilly was very worried at the start because she couldn’t feed Mr. Tiger his lettuce anymore, the way she did every day before he wrapped himself up.

She complained to her father about Mr. Tiger. Was he upset with her? She didn’t want him to leave so soon. Her father chuckled and carried her so she could see outside the kitchen window where Mr. Tiger was cocooned.

“Do you think he’s sleeping?” She had asked.

“I think he’s planning a surprise for you, Lilly,”

She squealed at that. Lilly loved surprises. Since then, she had made sure to check on Mr. Tiger every day so she wouldn’t miss her surprise. Today, Lilly did the same. She sat watching the small bud, which had changed a lot in the week. It had a pretty pattern on it and she wondered if Mr. Tiger drew it himself. Just as she did, it shook.

She reared back in surprise, gasping. Its happening! It shook again and Lilly leaned closer so she could see better. His antennas poked out first and then. . . She furrowed her eyebrows. Slowly, the shell around Mr. Tiger fell away as two beautiful wings emerged.

“Surprise!” Her father smiled, crouching next to her.

“Daddy! What’s happened to Mr. Tiger?” She couldn’t look away from the emerging ‘Mr. Tiger’ even for a second. He wasn’t green and black and chubby anymore. She watched, awestruck, as his new and delicate wings expanded, after being squished in that magic bud.

“He’s changed now into a beautiful butterfly, see?”

Lilly saw him test his wings out, spreading them across his back.

“But why?”

“Well. . . That’s how nature works. It’s one way nature shows us that beauty is in simplicity. And if you allow change to occur, you can morph into something beautiful, like Mr. Tiger did,”

Lilly watched the butterfly flutter, taking its first flight.

Michelle from Psychedelic Bay


And now she rises, immortal,
From the million fallen pieces,
The ones she combined after all,
Afraid of the dark faces,
She feared every fall,
For she be but still fragile,
She still grew inside her,
Like the little fire, cold for a while,
And that which burnt bigger now,
Somewhere deep within,
It made her grow,
And so she did,
Along with burns and scars,
She bolstered the joints,
She stitched those pieces,
And grew further, towards the stars,
She grew,
Whole, elegant and new,
Born again from the million pieces,
That the dark had broken her into,
Now she fought with the night,
Using the ever growing fire inside.

Kashaf Shaikh from awordwarriorsblog 



Have you heard of the story of the ugly duckling? I’m sure we all have. And as kids, we might have even dreamed of a similar transformation–when you finally grow into a woman’s body with the perfect curves, or for the boys, to grow strong, with 6-pack abs and big biceps. That’s all good and well. But not all transformations are physical. There are some that take place deep deep down in our being. Like the one I’m about to tell.

This is a story about Sammy and Samantha.

Sammy runs around the house riding her broomstick pretending she is a witch. Her broomstick would take her everywhere she want, from the great castle called The Bedroom, to the enchanted land of The Yard. Samantha runs her breath out trying to catch the bus.

Samantha is horrified of sweets! She’s on a strict diet, you see. Sammy’s favorite food are cake, candies, tarts, pie, and oh!..candies.

Sammy believes on princes and fairy godmothers, of tales about love, valor, and living happily ever after. Samantha’s living her own love story, where there’s no prince or kingdoms or castles to be seen. In fact, she had her heart broken yet again. A fairy godmother would be most welcome now.

Samantha only sings in the bathroom, where no one can hear. Sammy sings to the beat of Timon and Pumbaa, even when half the class is listening.

Sammy would have fun under the rain, jumping on puddles and chasing her dog round and round the yard until Mom tells her to get inside. Whenever it’s pouring, Samantha sulks under the mattress listening to emo songs.

Samantha walks out and locks in her room when scolded. Sammy listens and apologizes.

Sammy is excited every Halloween because it’s the only time she gets to put on makeup. Samantha does it almost everyday to hide her puffy eyes.

Samantha. Sammy.

The two of them are so different, don’t you agree? They are almost opposites, actually. But would you believe me if I tell you that they are one and the same. Surely, the metamorphosis did not happen overnight. It took years, but she didn’t notice herself changing day after day. Until days became months, and months to years. Until finally now. What happened to that happy girl who used to laugh and love the world? What have become of her mirth? Why does she feel heavier. How can she fly, with all her heart’s burden?

Fly. Can a cocoon fly?

No. Not yet.

Alpe John


The greatest of tales as narrated by TIME
Witnessed to go beyond eternity
it’s about a journey
That started with a little warmth
A magical experience so soothing and calm
Minutes passed and then did hours
Gradually, the warmth turned Cruel to heat unbearable
Species of all kind, started to pale
The journey slowed down, even came to a halt
Life was about to declare its extinct
Glaring up to the sky with hands two folded
They decided to pray for a little mercy
It happened then – a secret miracle
The Sun metamorphosed to a Moon
Bringing a breeze to shower the life
The Orange started to turn into white
There was no heat, the journey was smooth
Life, taking its time to relish the cool
Inevitable, the cool progressed to freeze
They all had to wake up from their dream
Once more, they all decided to pray
Looked up to the sky, then closed their eyes
Their lips murmured a few words of magic
And the Moon metamorphosed to the Sun

Zigyasa Kakkar from Mysestina



First bated breath:
powder blue to flushed pink
fragile, screaming, dependent, weak
infantile form, vulnerable, soft and pale
downy fuzz, eyes blurry, seeking milk

Cells divide, new tougher skin grows
heart pounds with skeptical hope
in time learning to walk, run, trip
hardier human form takes shape

Thrown callously into earthly wake
millions of eons of history before her
being hardened, jaded with pain
she smiles past precarious pasts

Opens her molting heart fast
shedding scars each time it cracks
it only heals stronger, adapts

Metamorphosis perhaps…

That predictable constant — change
the only thing that stays the same
in time she has shed herself, become
a whole new her, never succumbed

Entirely new heart, new eyes
new love, new breath, new skies
to view upon the broken world
with hope that truth optimizes

Her constant redesign, her rebirth…

Until one day…wings sprout forth
from her back, set her to lofty flight
above the looming black, into the light
her white feathers illuminating her path

Transformation complete

…she soars.
~ Emily Clapper from PoetGirlEm


Expression Crossing Continents

Hope ~ The Strix

The first topic for this collaboration is “hope.” Now…some of you may know my feeling about hope, so this is always a personal challenge. I tend to interpret it a bit differently, more of a no expectations, “I believe things will be as they will be” kind of approach. But, I also believe in that inner fire, and in crawling back and fighting, which I’ve had to do countless times. And so I wrote a poem about that (“Hope Is…”). I hope you enjoy it, and also the others who contributed with their unique takes on hope.  What makes humanity great is that we all come from different perspectives.

And I’d have it no other way…

Namaste, Em


Here’s to those who live by in this world one day at a time doing what the world asks of them. Who turned a struggle into an addiction and desire into compulsion. Those who spend every night on their bed, mind drowned in thoughts, heart unwanting to beat. . . You hold onto your wait for better days to come, and tell yourself that they won’t.

You hope. . .


Art by AlpeJohn


Hope Is…

…not a heart in a tree…
not loftily floating out of reach
not sitting on a gilded throne
not residing in some mystical realm

It is not guarded by angels high
glittered by faerie dust
or plucked from a flower garden
planted by seeds of heart hardened

An illusion…this word, these letters four
cannot be grasped by hands rich or poor
it is not attainable by prayers
it will not bow on command

It is not tangible or visible
it dances to no one’s tune
you cannot buy it with money
it does not arrive gift-wrapped

Hope is…

when you are beaten down
when the smile is replaced by a frown
when you are on your bruised knees
and you decide to stand on sore feet

It is the moment you want to give in…but don’t
it is when your heart feels like breaking
yet you break it open wide, again and again
daring to love despite the risk present

It is when you wake up in the morning
when you didn’t want to…and rise

It is when you refuse to succumb
to the pounding of the dark tides

Hope is composed of the moments you decide
to continue your path despite all there is to spite
it’s knowing that there is always light, your light,
even in the darkest of night

Hope is stained, dirty, tattered,
it is born from the ashes of the phoenix

You are
that phoenix…

is you.

~ Emily Clapper from PoetGirlEm


Bathed in soft lilacs, blues,
Filtering hues of colour through,
A veil of white while the outcomes wait,
Are they reflected in the colours,
You see from where you lay?
Will you stay here longer?
Will you wait another day?
The eye of heaven watches,
Blazing hot under its gaze,
Your patience sizzles and,
Your courage boils, still,
Boils again, as you stay in the shadow,
Though the sun shines high,
Over your skin where you lay,
Will you stay here longer?
Will you wait another day?
A fleeting dart of dark flies,
Once, twice, over your head,
Free to roam free of charge,
Its flight light from all the,
Things that it doesn’t carry,
And all you do is watch from where you lay,
Will you stay here longer?
Will you wait another day?
In hope that tomorrow,
Would bring new colour,
Or in hope that tonight,
Would bring new change?
Your eyes search the sky,
Where the sun starts to melt,
In hope of finding answers,
In hope of being felt,
While you mind mingles with thoughts,
Your heart whispers you this:
Don’t stay here longer,
Don’t wait another day.

~ Michelle Joseph from Psychedelic Bay 


Hope is courage. Hope is the strength. Being like the last piece of bread, the last drop of water, the last breath you take, hope requires courage to live on the last of everything you have. Hope is that faint, vague presence of light in complete darkness.

I believed and then I did not, I trusted, and then I did not. But hope remained, in hiding, camouflaged with the thousands thoughts running. Hope always stays. Like that good friend who shall never leave your side. Hope is always there, all you have to do is find yours! All you have to do is to hope for the light to arrive, in time.

~ Kashaf Shaikh from awordwarriorsblog


You look at night to the sky above and only see darkness.
Your head filled with noise.
Why even breathe.
It is so easy to get lost, losing yourself in the world we live in today.
It’s so easy to surrender to desperation.
Disappearing in the darkness.

The world has changed.

Give way to someone with less errands at the supermarket? Unthinkable: you’ve been waiting yourself for two minutes. Once, it was natural to talk to your lonely elderly neighbor, now you act as if you didn’t see her. So busy with self-imposed duties. Worry about what is happening around the globe? No way, enough burdens on your own plate.

The world has changed.

We take less and less time for each other. We rather assume the worst about a person, instead of taking the time to find out the reason why someone does, what he/she does. Chopping each other’s heads, bombing one another, since trying to understand each other’s ancient culture, values, opinions, feelings seems to be too difficult.

The world has changed.

Embrace the beauty of darkness.
Hear the whispering of life.
You’re not alone, more beautiful souls in the world, waiting to be found.
Cry, hurt, scream, fear, smile, laugh, dance, care.
Step into the circle of life.


~ Patty from kruidje-roer-me-niet 


His name was Afzal, no more than seven,
A child innocent, a victim of war,
Just a few days back, I had met him,
While, covering the bombings in Afghanistan,
The sight of the blasts horrendous & scary,
With lifeless bodies, ripped off flesh,
A few of them who survived the blasts,
Ran, for a little mercy in horror,
Broken houses screamed in silence,
Small children wounded and bleeding,
Cried in the streets unattended,
There I had seen this boy with courage,
Holding a white flag in his hands,
Sitting by the side of his lifeless father,
Surprisingly, I saw no tears in his eyes,
I moved closer to hear his whispers,
“Father, your son is strong to shed no tears,
To change things for better, I am going out there,
Holding a flag of peace in my hand,
Every beat of my heart, beating in hope,
Determined to melt the hearts of those demons,
How I hope to turn them to humans,
I remember your words, they echo in my mind,
The day will come, there shall be peace,
No more pain, no one will die anymore,
No sight of bloody bodies on the roads,
Holding my flag so white and flawless,
I shall march, I shall not give up,
My hope persistent to conquer the inhuman,
For I shall not let my children to witness,
A world so wounded, chained by terrorism.”

~ Zigyasa Kakkar from Mysestina


“Hope is a thin line between holding on and giving up. It will never turn real unless one acts and wills.”

~  Cezane

Expression Crossing Continents