L i te ra ry and Ar t Jou rna l

MacroMicrocosm

MacroMicro

cosm

MacroMicroCosmPrimordial Edition, 2014

Chief Editor: Kyle GoncharLayout: Melissa Ratajczak RatelCover Photography: Eleanor Bennett

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

ISBN: 978-0-9921188-4-6

Copyright © Vraeyda Multimedia Inc 2014

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Poetr

y

Prose

6 Change13 Poetry Has Eyes As the Sun63 Say No To Goodbye

Michael Kwaku Kesse Somuah21 ARCHIVE ONE

ROBIN WYATT DUNN40 GENTLE RAGE

SAPHA BURNELL48 WE BELONG TO THE PLACE WE COME FROM; THE SUN

SAMUEL ALDER61 THE IRON-COVERED EARTH

MARLENA BONTAS

4 THE BEAUTY OF PRIDE22 ON MICROCOSM62 ON MACROCOSM

MELISSA RATAJCZAK RATEL7 SMILING14 THE GIANT OF AMMONITE FALLS

MATTHEW WILLIAM ABRAM FAST11 RUST

SAPHA BURNELL24 PENELOPE AURORA AND THE ENCHANTED MAP OF PARMA

C.L. SHOEMAKER44 BANKRUPT! WHAT I LEARNED ABOUT LIFE

KATHARINE FAHLMANN50 CAN YOU HEAR THE ANGELS SING?: FORGIVENESS

SETH AYETTEY

ART 9 HER ARCHETYPE

ZADA HEBERT42 SEED OF LIFE

JANET MYER1 & 64 PHOTOGRAPHY

ELEANOR BENETT

Melissa Ratel

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CHANGE

SMILING

The sun winks an eyeIn burning flamesAnd fights the moonTo drift from night's sceneSo it could frown on its naught of dayAnd time, of the people's impunityBefore it gets judgedBy the natural under its watch

The sun is an eyeA noble soul of the worldAnd opines,War is not healthy,Not in my season!

Debts are cancersTo the well being of a countryAnd would not eat in my wake.

I,the sunwill not starewhilst you hang our democracybury leaders as paupersenslave their strengthfor I ask,Where thou reside O ye citizens?

I,the bronzing sunwill scorch the illsof man, and sum the concoctionsto the moon, and activate its flare'till I recover my bake at dawn

I,the just sunbefriends the light at the end of the tunneland persuade the shadows mastto fade into the dead,And trot the sins of the souring heart to reaffirm theirfates to the vowsof love and peacethat were marred by you and I.

Iwill give you hopeacross the crowded road'till you sneeze your noise to gold

somehow, as though there was this incredible urgeto burst forth.

Alexander turned and started making his waydown the river towards the falls. He stopped at theedge of them; watching the water tumble off,wondering if he, like a droplet of water, should takehold of inspiration and leap.

Before making his way back down the steeptrail, Alexander turned to look back up the river.Something caught his eye. There, for a briefmoment, Alexander swore he saw a faint flicker ofmovement. A glimpse of a woman in the dust. Ahint of Inspiration.

ARchivE OnERobin Wyatt Dunn

I sing the body electric,

My body, and your body,

The rutting Rubenesque grove of civilization,

Fondling all your bootsoles,

Whimpering in its glee thick madness,

The Internet Wayback and the piles of fruit--

Bodleian and Sumer

The book and the chap,

The scribble in the dump,

The true number of the beast,

And the hummed melody of song whispered by a librarian on her way to lunch--

The NSA is alien and it records us and we are alien and we record the NSA,

And all of us electric body thrumming to the grief stricken omnibus edition of life:

the Pro’s and Con’s.

Even without scientific data of the physical responses tobiological affection, one is hard pressed to find anotherhuman being who feels no love, or has had no love felt inthem. We don’t need an understanding of neurochemistryto see the way Margaret holds Joseph’s eyes, or the wayJoseph makes Margaret smile and laugh when nobodycould do it. We say, “Those two, it’s love.” We could watchas Margaret and Joseph meld their respective social groupsand in the shift of dynamics watch a new social group bond,perhaps plus and minus a few who lost interest or foundanother group in the shift.

If I put on a lab coat and set up a powerpoint in a lecturehall and presented my thesis on “Rogue Planets Margaretand Joseph: Star-Crossed Planetary Bodies whose MutualGravity broke from their Solar Orbits” and through a seriesof astrophysical mathematics and slides from the HubbleTelescope explained how the planetary body knowncolloquially as Joseph drifted close to Margaret, and in thedrift ended up being caught in mutual gravity & momentum,and thus Margaret flung out of her orbit taking Joseph withher, and in Margaret’s absence from her solar systemcreated a chaotic entanglement of void and pressure untilthe situation finally equalized in a new configuration, I mightlose a significant amount of the crowd.

How many specialists or interested parties are there in thephysics of rogue planets flinging from their solar orbits andcreating a situation worthy of the best Chaos Theorists inthe Northern Hemisphere?

How many specialists or interested parties would listen to astory about two people whose coming together createdtensions and emotional balms to the other bodies aroundthem?

Some things were meant to be easier to understand. Toinnerstand, deep inside ourselves. It is to the eternal creditof the human race that we are able to meet interpretationsof the larger scale in smaller form and come to know andcommunicate with them on a daily basis.

The cosmos is within our realm of interpretation, for we arewithin our own realm of interpretation.

Hypothesis:microcosm = macrocosmmicrocosm = (little) (world)

microcosm = (smaller representation) (world = cosmos)microcosm = the key to the cosmos

Greek over the head and yanked it ‘fair andsquare’. Little world.

The microcosm is important because itgives us a view of the universe we caninspect and comprehend. We might not allbe able to use Keppler’s Laws of PlanetaryMotion, or extrapolate how many Quarkslive in a nearby star, but we can come tounderstand how two bodies in motion, say,Margaret and Joseph, continue in theirlinear pursuit toward coupledom. Falling inlove is as much a vector, a line of motion,as it is an intent and series of chemicaltriggers in the brain.

Most would agree that love in all itsunfathomable depths is more than:

love = instinct (genetic immortality + selfpreservation) + neurochemicals (Dopamine[seeking & finding] + Oxytocin [trust] +Serotonin [Respect & Dominance]) +

hormones (pheromones + adrenaline +endorphins)

A heart has intelligence. It nurtures. Wehave all had a time where something didn’tfeel right in our hearts. Or it felt right in theheart, but not the head. ‘Going with ourgut’ can be just as indefatigable as listing

This is the story of a princess who had a mostunexpected adventure. Now, before you say, "I have readmany stories about princesses who have adventures. In fact,I just read a story about a princess last week. The bookstorehas been flooded with stories of princesses and there is alibrary in Baden-Wurttemberg, Germany on the top floor ofan old stone castle built on the tippy top of a very skinnymountain that contains exactly six thousand, four hundredand forty two stories about princesses."

Before you begin with these royal concerns, the authormust make one small observation (well, technically, two). Iknow of the library in Germany. I met the curator on a trainride from London to Paris during some terrible winterweather. We became stuck on track seven for over threehours, waiting for a snowplough and some friendly locals todig us out. It is surprising how well you can get to knowanother person when you are trapped in the same train car!During our forced confinement, I learned that HansBendelsnap, curator of the Princess Library, hated camels,had a pet iguana named Goustave, and had onceaccidentally dyed his hair pink. But that is an entirelydifferent story. What is important to our tale is that Mr.Bendelsnap had never heard a princess story quite like thisone. Out of all the tales in his library – and he had read eachone thirty-seven times – there was not one tale like this one.As I said, it was an unexpected adventure.

Most stories begin with “Once Upon A Time,” but suchan opening does not fit this tale, as the author is well awareof when the adventure happened. She has been sworn toabsolute secrecy to not reveal the exact location or theprecise moment, but she may reveal just a bit to you.

Our adventure occurred during the reign of King Ezekielthe Great, ruler of all Parma at the Eastern Sea. You mayhave studied your history in school and wish now to informme that there is no King Ezekiel in your textbook, and youwould be right. There is no Ezekiel because you are notsupposed to know about the land of Parma or the world ofthe neighbouring elves. If you were to wake up in the earlymorning to watch a beautiful sunrise, and squint as much asyou could towards that pink colour in the sky, you might be

able to make out the mountains of Parma and theEastern Sea. You see, Parma is a kingdom madevisible by belief. Many children are quite familiarwith Parma and can travel there if they concentratehard enough (which is to say if they are left aloneand not bothered by adults).

However, as children grow up, they seem tothink that Parma must be only in their imagination.They say to themselves, “Centaurs cannot exist, forI have never seen one in real life. A centaur hasnever been weighed or measured. There are nopictures of centaurs in the encyclopedia and,therefore, centaurs cannot be real.” And they fail toremember that when they were four, they met acentaur in their backyard. And by the time theyhave finished school, they know that centaurscannot exist because some very misguided authorshave told them so in large books with hundreds ofpages. At this point, the children are adults andthink themselves quiet clever because they believethat rules, scales, and photographs can prove theexistence of things. But if these clever adults wouldtake a moment to speak with some well-informedchildren, they might learn that they have beengrossly misguided. It is upon this point that Igravely fear for our education system. That isanother topic for another time.

Where were we? Ah, yes! Parma. If it has beenquite some time since you last visited, let theauthor refresh your memory: King Ezekiel lived in abeautiful palace made of glass, polished preciousstones, and pink diamonds. He ruled from thethrone room overlooking the Eastern Sea with theQueen by his side. Sometimes, if you were lucky,you could see through the open balcony into thethrone room from the nearby hills. The King andQueen had only one daughter, Princess Penelope,who was seven-and-a-quarter years old, but alwaysinsisted she was “nearly eight.” Penelope lived inthe west tower with her nurse and a pet squirrel.She also had two centaur guards (I told you theywere real!) who escorted her to all royal events.

Princess Penelope had been educated in all theimportant activities required of a princess. Thisincluded turtle herding (the turtle market was ever-growing in Parma), horseback riding, acrobatics,archery, and singing. While Penelope excelled inmost of her studies, she failed to master turtleherding. It was in part due to the fact that theturtles never wanted to go where she instructedthem, and they often chose to hide in the royalpond. While Penelope was vigilant in searching for

the turtles, her instructors did not appreciate thatshe often did so by swimming through the pond inher royal dress. In the end, Penelope managed toattain a passing grade by December as a result ofthe frozen pond. She borrowed the maid’s broomand slid the turtles across the ice into the requiredstar formation. On account of these uniquemethods, her instructors were forced to pass herfor she had completed the assigned task in underten minutes. I believe the instructors also felt sorryfor the turtles who were turning blue from the cold,and therefore, a pass was hastily agreed upon.

While Penelope enjoyed her studies, she oftenfound them confusing. What exactly was a princessto do with acrobatic skills? She tried entering herbirthday gala with a double back flip, handstand,and a number of cartwheels, but this resulted in herlanding in the birthday punch bowl. Her techniquewas perfect, though the guests failed to appreciateher talent when they were drenched in cranberryjuice. She was the first to admit her accuracyneeded some improvement.

In February, Penelope tried delivering Valentinesto her favourite servants using her archery skills, butthis plan did not go as expected. Penelope failedto consider that her correspondents would bemoving targets, and she accidentally pinned a fewservants to the castle walls. Soon the head guardcomplained to the King that his favourite hat hadarrow-holes and Penelope was forced to retire herbow for a full month.

While Penelope was an excellent horse rider, hercentaur guards did not appreciate being ridden,and her own horse often left the castle stables toexplore green pastures. It certainly wasn’tPenelope’s fault if she showed up for her ridinglessons but her horse did not.

This left only her singing. Penelope was a giftedsinger. She had perfect pitch, meaning she couldsing any note you asked on cue without aninstrument. She could even sing an entire song.However, her gift of perfect pitch also included thegift of perfect aim. You haven’t heard of perfectaim? Well perfect aim allows someone to throw hisor her voice in a certain direction, like a baseballand strike any object. It is very helpful in battle, butcan be disastrous if you have a singing argumentwith your little brother. For Princess Penelope, itmeant that she couldn’t sing at anyone or her voicewould knock them off their feet, pick them up, andthrow them out the door. The King and Queendiscovered Penelope’s gift during her third

birthday when she joined in the chorus of HappyBirthday and threw three guests into the royalpond. The party became a pool party, and I believethe centaurs brought out steel drums for musicalambiance. No one was hurt, but Penelope wasencouraged to limit singing to safe environments.

Where is the adventure, you ask? Well, just holdon. It is coming. On a particular day, the 13th ofMinch, in the year of the rising sun, Penelope hadfinished all her assigned homework, accidentallysung a cook out a window, and collected all herturtles. Thus, her teachers, desperate to findsomething for her to do handed her a copy of ElfinHistory Through The Enchanted Ages. Whilehistory is a wonderful topic (the author would liketo state that she has nothing against individualswho lived in the past and are now dead or,perhaps, may still be alive), this particular bookposed problems (the author would also like to statethat she has nothing against elf history). If youactually know your Elfin history, you are aware ofthe excitement and activity that occurs in the Elfinlands. There are wand wars, battles for magicalthrones, spell creations, animal-elf treaties, andmany celebrations. Sadly for Penelope, the bookwhich she was given was written in the Elfinlanguage and her teachers had failed to considerthat Penelope had never learned ancient Elfin.Thus, she was left in her tower with a book thatlooked to be filled with squiggles. They werebeautiful squiggles, but they were nonsense to her.

Yet Penelope was a determined student.Despite the squiggles, she flipped through everysingle page in Elfin History Through The EnchantedAges. It was this determination that started her onher adventure, for tucked inside the book ataround page six hundred and thirty one, Penelopefound an old, folded paper. She opened it toreveal a map of Parma. This map was anenchanted, ancient drawing with a red line thatwent straight from her western tower through thegarden, over the castle wall, and out into a worldthat Penelope had never seen. Penelope stared atthe scarlet line and wondered why it was glowing.

The only maps she had studied were the warmaps in her father’s battle room, and they onlyincluded the castle, the green pastures, and theEastern Sea. Penelope had never considered thefact that there were other lands. Geography wasnot included in her lessons, and now she lookedupon it as a serious defect in her educationalupbringing. On this map there were strange places

with names like “Lake Look Under”, “the Forest ofMisery” and “Hilltop Meadow”. Penelope did notthink it odd that she could read the map, for sheknew from the sparkling red line that the paper wasenchanted. However, it did bother her that her ownname appeared near the bottom of the page ingold lettering. The map read:

To Princess Penelope, the Heir Apparent.Penelope did not know what “heir apparent”

meant, but it sounded like it had something to dowith her parents, and that was always important.

What should I do now?” she asked herself. Themap didn’t answer back, even if it was enchanted.

Nothing appeared on the map. No ghostly voiceanswered her question, but the red sparkly lineglowed stronger and stronger until it looked asthough it would burst into flames. Penelope ran toher bedside table and doused the map with a glassof water, just in case the strange paper did decideto erupt. Nothing happened. The water rolled offthe map and the red line continued to glow.

Maybe I should follow it?”At this thought, Penelope decided that she

should prepare for such a journey. She did notknow how long it would take her to reach her finallocation, but she hoped to be back in time fordinner. If she was travelling, she would need a coat,her bow and arrow, and her pink shoes. Penelopealso decided that it was better if her teachersthought she was still in her room enjoying ElfinHistory Through The Enchanted Ages.

The best way to leave her tower would be byacrobatic methods with her bow and arrow. Aftersaying farewell to her squirrel, Penelope loosed anarrow, a rope tied to the end, out her towerwindow. The arrow secured itself in thesurrounding rampart of the castle wall and, afterknotting the other end of the rope to her bedpost,Penelope tightrope-walked her way down to theperimeter wall. She was greatly relieved that shecould finally put her balancing lessons to good use.

Standing on the castle wall, Penelope jumpeddown to the other side. Landing on the grass, shewas surprised at how high the wall looked. Thecastle suddenly seemed extremely tall and large.Taking out her map, Penelope traced the red linewith her finger to her first destination: Lake LookUnder. Determining the correct direction, Penelopeset out on the dirt path that aligned with her map.

The first five minutes of Penelope’s adventurewere exciting, for she had never been outside thecastle walls. The grass looked different – a bright

swimming skills to use and made for the surfacebut when she reached it she hit the clear bluebarrier. The pixies were laughing. Their lips curledback into grins, their sharp teeth flashed, and theirhorrid giggles rang out as they watched herstruggle. Penelope panicked. She would drown.

The mermaid swam up beside her and pushedagainst the barrier. Penelope banged her fistagainst the solid water.

"It is a spell. No one can break it.” The mermaidspoke, her voice clear under the water.

Penelope clutched at her throat. She needed air.Air? Her voice. Her gift of throwing. Could itpossibly break the barrier? With the last ounce ofstrength and air left Penelope sang out a phrase“Break, and let me breathe.” Her voicereverberated through the water, building, throwingthe mermaid down into the depths of the lake, andwith a final thrust, shattering the lake’s barrier intoa thousand tiny white pieces. The shards flew intothe sky and then disappeared.

Penelope broke through the water and gaspedfor air. The pixies stopped laughing, let out acollective gasp, and flew away in fear. Penelopeclutched at the shore, exhausted and breathless.She was about to climb out onto the grass when avoice stopped her.

How did you break the curse?”It was the mermaid. Her head bobbed above

the water and her voice sounded like the rushing ofwind. “I have not felt the sun or seen the sky forhundreds of years.”

"I sang. I have a gift,” Penelope explained.“I am Arawell, daughter of the last Sea King. I

was trapped here by a powerful Mandril lord, amember of the first magic council of kingdoms.Thank you for freeing me. I may at last return to mypeople and my father.” Penelope had to catch herbreath and could merely nod in response as shegasped and pushed wet hair out of her face.

"I am sorry. I forget humans breathe air. Are youalright?”

“For now, but I’m all wet and I haven’t brought achange of clothes.”

“Oh, that is easily solved. Take some starlightor sunbeam flowers from those bushes. They willdry you in mere moments. And please, take thisnecklace,” Arawell requested as she held out ashell. “It is a Tallis Conch Heart. It will protect youfrom harm on land or on water. It is the least I cando, now that you have released me.”

Penelope gladly accepted the mermaid’s gift

and her advice. After bidding her farewell, shewent in search of sunbeam flowers. While Penelopehad seen sunbeams before, it took her a long timeto locate any in the meadow. Perhaps Arawell’seyes were stronger. A mermaid, after all, has to seeunderwater in the dark depths of the ocean.

Poor Penelope tromped all across the nearbyhillside, around the lake, and even up to the edgeof the forest in search of sunbeam flowers. Eventhough she walked in the sunlight, her clothes werestill soaking wet and she was chilled to the bone.She wanted to turn around and go home to a warmfire, hot chocolate, cookies, and her mother. Butsomething urged her to continue her search.

At the very edge of the hills, right where theforest began Penelope finally found what sheneeded: a small patch of bright yellow flowers.Penelope was about to pick them when a deepvoice stopped her.

"What do you think you are doing, little one?”Penelope jumped and turned to see a large

black Clydesdale standing among the trees. Hewas bigger than any horse she had ever seen in herfather’s stables. He was certainly larger than herown horse, and he seemed to be a creature ofimportance. His eyes were a bright blue, like twoshining crystals, and his hooves gleamed blackamong the forest moss.

I was trying to become dry,” Penelopeanswered, her teeth chattering as she spoke.

“And how did you become wet?”“I was pushed into a pond by some murderous

pixies,” Penelope snapped. She was beginning tobecome cross. Being cold, wet and tired will dothat to a princess. It is difficult to remember yourmanners and social graces when you are drippingwet and shivering.

“So that was you?”“What was?”“That earth shattering cry that disturbed all of

the Enchanted Forest.”“I was trapped. I was going to die and I saved a

mermaid,” Penelope protested.“And what about the rest of us?”“Pardon?”The horse sighed and appeared to be making a

decision of some importance. Finally, he spoke.“My name is Reginald. If you want to become dryfollow me. There is a cottage one mile out. Bringthe sunbeams. Silly merfolk think they know earthmatters. You’ll need to boil them first or you willnever be dry.”

“I scar easy, watch the scissors.”Quiet eyes,Electric blueDistills youInstills youIt fills you with espersAspirations with your fears.Breathe deep.

Devils don't standfor you...

You are God's Boy.FightingFighter with swollen knuckles.

GENTLE RAGESAPHA BURNELL

@USURPERKINGS

“Yes, Mother.”Astride her palomino, Penelope’s mother leaned

forward in a beautiful red dress and beamed downupon her daughter. “Then I am very proud of youmy dear.”

“Proud?” The King gasped. “But Geraldine, wecannot encourage disobedience and lack ofresponsibility. Penelope knows not to leave thecastle grounds without informing us. She mustalways tell us where she is going and take a royalcentaur—”

“Dear,” the Queen insisted with a warm smile,“we are not encouraging disobedience, but ratherencouraging bravery, loyalty and self-sacrifice: alltraits of a good king or queen. I think our Penelopeis smart enough to know not to do this again. Ibelieve she will make an excellent and wise queenone day.” King Ezekiel simply stared in shock atwhat he was hearing.

“I will second that blessed fortune, and herebyswear the assistance and protection of the Elvesfrom the North if Parma is ever in need of analliance in war,” the Elf King spoke from where he

had silently observed his men and theconversations..

“I dare say the Sea King will offer his promise ofprotection. I will speak for my herd, and for myself,when I promise the Princess eternal protection,should she need it,” Reginald offered with a bow.

After these generous promises, the youngprince stepped forward and bowed to Penelope.His clothing had returned to its original pristinecondition before the curse, and he looked as aprince should look. “I, too, should offer my thanksto you, Penelope for coming to help me when noone else would. To thank you for your bravery andloyalty, even when I was cruel, I offer you thisartifact that was in our family for years. I hope it willbring you what you seek.” The prince reached intohis jacket pocket and produced a roll of paper.

Curious, Penelope took the scroll and opened it.“Oh, look Reginald,” she cried. “Another map.”

The King and Queen looked at each other withgreat concern. “Oh dear,” they said.

Oh goody!” cried Penelope. END

JANET MYERS began to paint DNA

codes, spirals of life and patterns

of fractal dimensions. Honey combs

within the waters. Beings emerged

from the forest within the trees,

and Seed of Life was born. JanetMyers is a UK-based visual artist.

“Katharine,” my husband said, a catch inhis voice. Whatever Dwayne was about to say,intuition told me that I wasn’t going to like it.

“I’m listening,” I answered, leaving thefloor his. “I need you to come to the bank withme and sign some forms.” Mostly my husbandwas a strong and proud man. At that momenthe seemed more lost.

“Okay,” I agreed, not bothering to askwhat kind of forms. Banks lent people money;we obviously needed a quick cash influx.

“What time?” I asked, sensing his deepsadness and not mentioning the lone tearedging his clouded brown eyes. Protectiveinstincts kicking in, I momentarily consideredclosing the distance between us and hugginghim. But I knew my husband well enough toknow what he needed at the moment wasspace.

“Ten, tomorrow morning,” he supplied,lowering his head as he turned and exited theroom.

“Your debt-to-asset ratio has greatlyaffected your credit rating,” the loans officersaid, his expression sober as his shoulderssquared off with Dwayne. “Quite frankly, wearen’t confident that you’d be able to fulfillyour payment obligations.” We wouldn’t beable to fulfill our payment obligations? Did Ihear him correctly? Nervously reaching for thepapers I studied our bleak financial picture.

“There must be some mistake,” I saidaloud, inwardly realizing that there wasn’t. Myhusband hadn’t revealed all the facts andfigures before our appointment; nevertheless, Iknew our financial situation wasn’t ideal.

Turning to facing me, the loans officer said,

“There’s no mistake. I completed your financialprofile myself. It’s accurate.”

Deafened by the hysterical trample of innerscreams, I’m not certain if either the loansofficer or my husband responded. Like athousand horses stampeding, hoofbeat afterhoofbeat, clatter pounded against my templesas the room teetered and my face flushed redhot.

“Excuse me,” I muttered, standing andheading for the office door. Things like thishappened to other people, not to us.

Somehow having found my way to theladies room, I gaped in the mirror. The sweat-speckled crimson ‘me’ looking back seemedforeign and odd. My legs too weak to supportthe shock of my mangled new reality, I bracedagainst the sink before splashing cold water onmy face. I still couldn’t ground, seeminglyfloating out of my physical body and into aweightless dimension. Taking deep breathshelped to somewhat reconnect my mind andbody. Counting to ten slightly calmed myanger, as my overwhelmed mind franticallysought to assign blame elsewhere…anywhere.

Our financial safety was gone. Sad,hollowed and numb I dragged mysandbagged feet down the hall and back intothe reality room. A quick glance at myhusband told me that while I was absent, hisconversation with the loan’s officer had beenstrained. Locking eyes with Dwayne, my heartflipped upside down, but landed safely. Therehad to be a way out of this mess.

On the way home from the bank that day, Irecalled how many weeks earlier, Dwayne andI had talked to a debt management consultant,

�� � �������

BANKRUPT! WHAT I LEARNED

ABOUT LIFE

KATHARINE FAHLMAN

acting as a liaison and offering suggestions;reducing resistance and avoiding unnecessaryarguments with someone you love.

Should you be faced with bankruptcy, thefirst step I recommend is taking an inventory ofyour assets and resources. Add up what you dohave, not what you owe or don’t have. You willbe surprised at your tally. We still had our jobsand were allowed to keep some assets. Ourdebts were not completely wiped out. We stillhad to pay a predetermined ‘outstanding debtbalance’ which we’d earlier negotiated with thehelp of our trustee. Thanks to an old boss, whohelped rather than judged, Dwayne worked asecond job and that money went towardreducing our residual debt balance.

FYI: Reestablishing your après bankruptcycredit rating is less complicated than you mightthink. Dwayne’s longtime bank lending officeradvised and approved a Registered RetirementSavings Plan loan for Dwayne.

Thanks to this earth angel, my husband’scredit rating began an immediate upwardswing. While waiting to again become a goodfinancial risk, prepaid credit cards, cell phoneplans, and car purchases are still attainable.

Dwayne and I learned about bankruptcythe hard way—we couldn’t maintain our debtload. Don’t let that become you. Within theworld of finance there are many escapehatches and solutions for ordinary folk. Ourgovernment is acutely aware that thanks to theconstant onslaught of media fueledconsumerism and credit card companies willingto fulfill our lifestyle dreams via unsecureddebt, personal bankruptcies continue to rise.To this end, legislation is in place to ensurecitizens caught within the buy-buy-buy frenzy,or who find themselves in an unforeseeablemonetary bind, have a chance to recoverfinancially and start over again. But long beforeyou get to where you need to be bailed out,take personal financial control. One safeguardwe now use is dealing in cash, rather than bankand credit cards. Counting out what you payfor groceries, clothes and entertainment keepsyou aware that your hard-earned dollars are

slipping away. When declaring bankruptcy, bemindful that your self-respect and confidenceare at risk of plummeting out of control.Should anyone close to you measure yourvalue as being the sum total of your assets andbank balance, take a deep-hearted look atwhether to continue with that particularrelationship. Those who empathize andsupport you in spite of your financial troublesare worthy of your continued friendship. Thosewho don’t, obviously need to re-evaluate theirpriorities. No one enters bankruptcy easily. It’san anxious, guilt-ridden ordeal, during whichthe financially stressed person continuallyberates him or herself. Should bankruptcybecome the unfortunate fate of someone youknow, regardless of anything you might thinkabout their financial irresponsibility, trust me,your loved one is doing a much more thoroughjob at deprecating themselves than you evercould. My advice regarding any time you findyourself considering saying something hurtfulto someone, stop and think—it only takes asecond to wound a heart that may take alifetime to heal.

The most valuable asset Dwayne and Isaved was our marriage. Take heart and feelthe hope, there is life after bankruptcy. Whatyour life will look like will be up to you. Countyour blessings and be thankful for your trulyprecious assets—health, love, family, andfriends—they will be instrumental in helpingyou through. The chain of positive events thathas occurred since I turned my earthly destinyover to God continues to amaze and inspireme. Every morning, I wake up and read a signthat I posted on my wall: “Good morning, thisis God speaking. Today I will be handling allyour problems, so just relax because I don’tneed your help. Thank you for your trust andunderstanding. Our spiritual guides are alwayswith us. Ask your higher-power for guidanceand then watch carefully and listen openly. Ithink you will be pleasantly surprised by thepeople and answers that come to you.

The Heartmind Wisdom Anthologywww.heartmindwisdom.com

Livingintheheart,wediscoverthesacredart,ofrowingourboatdownthestream,whereourshareddreamsburstattheseams,

Claritysetsonourbrow,wearerememberingandlearningexactlyhow,tomanifestwhatisbestsothatthisearthcanonceagainbeblessed:

wewon’trunawayfromthismomentbutliveinthenow.

Ripplesandreflectionsareonthewater,wegiveourallandsometimesfall;in,butitdoesn’tendthenitjustbegins,goosebumpsarewhatwefeel,

whenwearenotskimmingbutswimminginthewatersoflove,acrystalclearfield,

theninspirationswoopsdownlikecloudsfromabove,remindingusofanytruthorlovewehavelost:

Wediscoverthingsbelowthesurface,feelingwhatisreal,thedeepnolongerconceals;

somethingbecomesimmediatelyclear,thesunlivesinus,trust!Aboveandbelowareone.

andwe’realljoininginthefun,we’reinitforthelongrun!Toshinelikethesunisourdestiny,todiscoverthebestinyouandme,

learntoharnessthe4elements;Earth,Wind,Water,Fireintherightorderwilltakeusbeyondanyborders;alwayson,higher,lower,higher,oursoulburns,itisfire,inner,outer,wholeworldsitinspires.

Nooneknowshowitwasallmade,that’swhatmakesthisgamefun,it’snotjustacharadeIt’sdifficulttotellheadfromtoe,whenwearealwaysonthego,Thatiswhywemustlearntogowiththeflow,andjustknowthemusicinwhichourownsoulisimmersed,thesongwhichfromourheartandlungslongstoburst,

we belong to the placewe come from; the sun

with gratitude and grace, we put the

leftandrightoarandwatersplashesourface,asthe truth twinkles because of the sun we let go and are at one

, giving

gra

ceitsri

ghtfulplace,not

asingledistractionamelioratesourface

Samuel Alder

Giveitspacegiveittime,itisadivinevine,onedoesnotpickgrapesbeforetheyareripe,that’salmostacrime.

Discoverthedirectionleadingawayfromsenselessslaughter,motherearth,sky’sdaughter,haveaplan:torestoreallofthislandandendwhatnatureabhorsnamelywars,whichareendlesslyboringchores:everybrokenbonemustbe

healed,violencehasnoyield…afamilywillmissitsmembers,justlikeatree,feelsallofitsroots,theyaretender.

Wearestridingalongthewayofpeace,notslaves,butbraveones,soletusmasterthisbeast:theimpulsesofthebody;nolongergivingourselvesovertofeelingswhichcanonlybedescribedasshoddy.Rememberingthedignity

ofbeinghumanandwhatitmeanstosaytruthfully„GodLovesMe“.

Weknowthepaceandtherhythm,we’resmilingbecauseit’salreadygiven!Heavenhasacode,andofitthereisanode,itpulsatesinourchest,ifwelistenwecanknowitandbeblessed

it’snotmatterORmindit’sboth,solet’sdowhatwelovethemost,knowthattheanswersareinourhearts,there’saplaceforusontheark,aplacetofreeourdivinespark,aplacewherewecanalwaysrestart,

whereagemeetsyouth,lovedoesn’tseemodd,butyouknowthetruthofgod:godislove,

andthat’swhynooneisoutofplace,thatiscertainandtrue,youreallydon’t

needtofeelblue,becausewhiletheycallthisthehumanrace,knowthathere,thereisoverflowinggrace.That’swhatmakesiteasytokeepthepace!

SoLet’salljoinintheheavenlymusic,whichthesunbydaringtoshineallnightlong,

keepsplanetsmovingon,whilstsingingitswonderfulsong,TheSoulisthegoalofthissong,andwhenyoulistentoityoucandonowrong,Becauseitiseverythinglighttouches,andlet’syouknow:youtrulydobelong.

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Visit vraeydamedia.ca today to feature yourfiction, non-fiction, poetry, art & graphicnovel in future issues of MacroMicroCosmLiterary & Art journal.

Full Length Manuscripts Accepted.

Chapter 12 Forgiveness

hundred days by radical Hutus out of racialhate, political rivalry and hunger for power.What this nation needs most now to be able toforge ahead in development as one peoplewith one destiny and to break the cycle of tribalhate is forgiveness. One of the finest acts offorgiveness towards this end in Rwanda hasbeen captured in the book, “Left to Tell” byImmaculee Ilibagiza. The subtitle to the book is“Discovering God Amidst the Rwandanholocaust”. Immaculee’s family fell prey to theatrocious murderous acts of their neighbours.Blood stains remained deep in the soul. Yet,Immaculee discovered the most important partof the holocaust: evidence of the presence ofGod in the midst of death and decay.

Her Tutsi father had been instrumental ineducating children both Tutsi and Hutu alike. AGod-fearing Hutu priest had hidden her andothers away from blood-thirsty members of histribe. When the holocaust ended, some of theperpetrators were arrested. Among them wasthe person who killed her family. When she was

asked if she wanted to meet the leader of thegang that killed her mother and her botherDamascene, she replied, “Yes, I do”.

The assailant Felicien, was sobbing beforeher in shame. Immaculee reached out for hishand and, to the surprise of all, said, “I forgiveyou”. When Immaculee was asked why she didnot question Felicien or spit on him but ratherforgave him, she answered, “Forgiveness is all Ihave to offer”.

The evidence that Immaculee had truly hadan encounter with God manifested in herattitude towards the person who tormentedand butchered her family and who had alsohunted her with murderous intent. Need I saymore! What a beautiful story. What an action oftrue love by one who, together with her family,had suffered treachery at the hands of peoplethey had loved and cared for but who hatedthem sorely in return. Like Immaculee, all I haveto offer those that treated me and my familycruelly is the best in me: forgiveness and love.

ThE IRon-CovErEd EarthMaRlena Bontas

I don’t know any prayer

To wake up the deadfrom underneath the shallow groundSing with me the song of rainTo help those lives rise againTo new beginnings.

Darling, say you’re not my fatherAnd that you’ll not make me burry youIn the backyard among flowers and plum treesThat bloom in the spring.

Daddy, you are not my loverBut you have bit my vein for a decade or so,Should I pray with you for my sake?Daddy, don’t turn me into you,I am a princess and you are a dog that carries mycrown

Release me from the dream of life that you hidUnder the mountain of your pain.

I am not a fascist loverI am not a bag full of babies that can’t stop cryingIf you give me God on a plateI’ll suck the faith out of your bonesUntil you’re done.

Daddy, I am not your motherOr the healer of you iron heartLeave the garden of your dreams to dry outAnd send me a flowerSo I know you care.

Father, I wanted youI wondered who you are for so longThere’s no hammer strong enoughTo break your iron shell.

A girl walks up to a man, “I forgive you”.A frame of reference is needed to make sense

of any given action or effect. Take away one of theaxises which makes up the modern humanexperience, and the walls crumble down into paperthin line segments dashed across a horizontal plain.Like the Sphere coming to visit in Flatland, all themagnificence of depth is squelched for a simplerpath. How can it be the Square’s fault to doubt theexistence of a 3rd Dimension, when being a Square,he’s had neither the education nor the experience ofsuch a vast place of x, y, and z axes?

The microcosm can only function within a largerscale. Like a first year chemistry student rectifyingboth sides of an equilateral equation, we can fumblewith the jargon and sling Carbon atoms from oneside to the other in risk of odd precipitates untilsome mean and unimpressed Professor tuts our wayand sends us off to the Teaching Assistant. There wemay find a gentler coach, who comes to us withsimpler equations and the plodding patience of theunderemployed.

Better yet, find a Teacher with perspective. MyMartial Arts Master describes to his Staff thatanyone, with the proper application of “MonkeySee, Monkey Do” can teach a martial arts technique.Add some time, and one can become proficient atteaching the physical demands of Taekwondo. Ittakes a more advanced instructor to be able to teachthose same movements with the application of aquality of technique. Speed this week, Power thenext, down a line of adjustments to create a lessflawed example of a Round Kick. We’re closer nowto the Platonic Ideal kick.

The instructors we must seek are those whichteach the motions of an interest/pursuit, qualities toimprove and a greater feat of mental and emotionalaptitude. This instructor teaches the art of a roundkick, while also teaching humility, confidence,attitude. It’s the coach in soccer who teaches dutyand teamwork alongside a winning advantage andfootwork, the music teacher who sits their studentdown and although the student was proficient at themelody of a piece, demonstrates the emotion andspirit behind it. It could be the mountain a climber

spends three months learning to climb, which alongwith physique and a view of the outdoors taughtfocus and perseverance. It could be the stormhitting a ship mid-ocean, where sailors wrestle tomaintain control, then learn to slowly give way andfloat with the current to safer waters. It could be thesound of a young mother pleading with an infant tocalmly fall asleep. Mother’s here teaching security ina higher power. Lesson learned, that infant grew andin their mother’s time of need or withering agethrew their arms around her and says “I’m here, Ihaven’t forsaken you”.

Without the larger perspective for an event tosit within, that action can mean nothing.

A girl walks up to a man bent low, peers down in histerrified face, and says “You killed my family, you

tortured us. I forgive you.”He breaks down in tears. Immaculee walks away a

hero of forgiveness and grace.Healing, in Rwanda.

The action is the same, yet through viewing thelarger scale, a new understanding breaks the ice offlippancy and easy shoulder shrugs. In our first issue,we watched the sun rise with laughter, over the waya group of German musicians discovered beauty,fantasy and inspiration in the Scottish Highlands.We’ve seen the heart of a woman peering for a briefmoment at a broken-knuckled man, and seen theswirls of light and love reformed into a forest in Seedof Life. Alone they are pieces of identity, academia,metaphysical poetry and the view of a man after afight. Looked at from a larger distance, what is it wesee?

On behalf of the contributors and staff ofVraeyda Literary, thank you for cracking open thespine of this primordial edition. We hope you comeback to vraeydamedia.ca and check out more worksof these authors, artists, musicians and filmmakers.

With love,Melissa Ratajczak RatelC.E.O.

OnmaCroCosmOn MacRocosmMelissa Ratajczak Ratel

@vraeyda

Someday,

I will go to heaven and fall in lovewith the world of childrento a thought of smilesand breath of fresh air.

Someday,My heart will sing a songof love, in a Holy Citywhere you would belongand dance to paintings of lifeeternal

Someday,Precious stones of diamondswould not be a pleasure of the eyesmilky meals on the menuwould delight those who succumbed to death

Someday,I will wed my arms opento the basking soulswho lived at peace with me and all men

MichaEl Kwaku

KEssE Somuah

SAY NOTOGOODBYE

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