Thanks to random internet searching, I found a site called “One Sentence Poems” run by Dale Wisely and Elizabeth McMunn-Tetangco.

They also take submissions, so send them your poems!

I am slowly working my way through the collection. Bookmark it, subscribe to it, enjoy it as it’s updated each week!

Fire Us with Ice, Burn Us with Snow
~ Mary Monck

As Corydon went shiv’ring by,

Sylvia a Ball of Snow let fly,

Which straight a Globe of Fire became,

And put the Shepherd in a Flame;

Cupid now break thy Darts and Bow,

Sylvia can all thy Feats out-do,

Fire us with Ice, burn us with Snow.

If you are new to working with bindrunes, I suggest you read the introductory bindrune post here, then return to this post to read about this specific bindrune. Remember that working with bindrunes, as with working with any kind of magic, does not carry guaranteed results, and may produce results quite different from what you expect.

Journeying in any form—whether spirit journeys through the ether, or physical travel in the material world—carries risks and can lead to unexpected hazards. I designed this bindrune with spirit journeying in mind, but there’s no reason you couldn’t use it for travel by plane, car, ferry, etc. I did create a bindrune specifically for travel or moving house, which you can read about in this post, that you may find more suitable for your earthly travels.

Bindrune for Successful and Safe Journey – Eihwaz, Ehwaz, Raido

Eihwaz (left tile, purple in bindrune): Eihwaz serves two purposes. First, it is the yew tree, which is one of the representations of Yggdrasil. In this wise, it symbolizes journeying between the worlds, as you climb the branches of the World Tree. Yggdrasil is also “Odin’s Horse”, so you get two travel references in one word! Eihwaz as yew also represents the protective powers of the yew tree, guarding you as you move through the worlds.

Ehwaz (center tile, brown in bindrune): Ehwaz is the rune of the horse and the rider. The horse can take you where you want to go, but you as the rider must give the horse direction and control its movement. This rune also brings in elements of trust: you trust yourself to be prepared for this journey, and you trust your Gods, Guides, etc. to lead you true.

Raido (right tile, red in bindrune): Raido is the rune of journeying and movement. It is both the motion and the road. Raido involves doing the right thing at the right time to achieve the right result. Raido will keep you on your path, removing distractions and unhelpful detours, so you go where you need to go to learn what you need to know.

The bindrune on the left was done in colored pencil. The one on the right was done with fine point calligraphy markers. They are shown in two different media to give an idea of how the same bindrune looks different depending on how it is created.

You could put a drop of sage oil for clarity of purpose, or lavender for calm and courage. You could also use your favorite oil on it to reinforce the energy with your personal scent. You can also use a magical oil, such as a hoodoo oil or other type of specially prepared oil.

Safe and successful journeying to you in all the Realms!

Use this bindrune—and all bindrunes—entirely at your own risk.

When Giving Is All We Have
~ Alberto Ríos

One river gives
Its journey to the next.

We give because someone gave to us.
We give because nobody gave to us.

We give because giving has changed us.
We give because giving could have changed us.

We have been better for it,
We have been wounded by it—

Giving has many faces: It is loud and quiet,
Big, though small, diamond in wood-nails.

Its story is old, the plot worn and the pages too,
But we read this book, anyway, over and again:

Giving is, first and every time, hand to hand,
Mine to yours, yours to mine.

You gave me blue and I gave you yellow.
Together we are simple green. You gave me

What you did not have, and I gave you
What I had to give—together, we made

Something greater from the difference.

Sonnet Isolate
~ Anne Carson

“I force myself to contradict myself in order to avoid conforming to my own taste.” —Marcel Duchamp

A sonnet is a rectangle upon the page.
Your eye enjoys it in a ratio of eight to five.
Let’s say you’re an urgent man in an urgent language
construing the millions of shadows that keep you alive.
If only it were water or innocent or a hawk from a handsaw,
if only you were Adonis or Marcel Duchamp
settling in to your half hour of sex or chess, not this raw
block cut out of the fog of meaning, still damp. But no,

you are alone. Whatever idea here rises from its knees
to turn and face you quicker than a kiss
or a hyphen or the very first moment you felt the breeze
of being a creature who will die—one day, not this—
will ask of you most of your cunning and a deep blue release like a sigh
while using only two pronouns, I and not-I.