
reflecting
on pathways
and shadows
Copyright 2019 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading →

When storms churn surf
and flood waters rise,
beacons of light
are as vital as breath.
Copyright 2018 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading

Freed,
treed,
high as a bird,
like a rising song,
with a need to climb
ever higher,
a girl can believe,
can succeed,
can belong. Continue reading

This gray day, I find myself at sea, as I read Herman Melville’s poetry. In his life, he suffered the fears and disappointments of writing for a living. The fickle nature of the sea symbolized his readers, who loved Moby Dick, but deserted him with their indifference to his later works, including stirring civil war poetry.
Here is an excerpt from his poem, The Haglets, that speaks to my fairy-tale-loving heart:
Imbedded deep with shells
And drifted treasure deep,
Forever he sinks deeper in
Unfathomable sleep —
His cannon round him thrown,
His sailors at his feet,
Where never haglets beat. Continue reading



May your inner light shine on the longest day,
Reflecting back the light of the universe.
If Shakespeare is your cup of tea, here’s a fairy poem on Midsummer from him. I also offer a midsummer fairy tale set in Ireland, called Midsummer Stew, a tale of fairy retribution and redemption and of the interconnectedness of us all. Continue reading
Troubles drop away,
Luck comes our way,
That’s our moment.
Everything turns out fine.
It’s our moment to shine.
Trouble may make us blue,
But that fades to dark
When we feel the spark.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: I’ve had bad years, with rare good moments. And good years with few bad moments. My heart holds onto the good times. I hope yours does, too. This poem was inspired by my latest rejection letter, which was not a shining moment, but another opportunity. Every door that remains shut helps us find the right door.
Crazy-quilt Sycamore tree,
One leaf, no longer perfect.
Yet the leaf shines with green,
Making oxygen for me,
And sweet sugar sap,
Flowing slowly into the tree.
The leaf scars show a beetle’s feast,
But those same imperfections
Are where the light shines through.
Note: I am often reminded of my own imperfections, my scars and my secret sins. I accept these things about myself as I accept them in the ones I love. I wrote once before about finding beauty in scars, a post called Beauty in the Broken Places. Today, Line and I were talking about imperfection and perfection being like two sides of a spinning coin, always rotating between the two.
Northern lights result from solar emissions traveling across space and colliding with earth, sparking incredible light displays. They can happen any time or any place on earth, but the lights, uncoiling like chinese dragons, are only visible in the darkest night sky. Perhaps we are always surrounded by these subtle displays of arching color, but our eyes cannot see them in the greater brightness of the sun and moon.