He called himself the devil but I saw his light. Said it like a warning. But I didn’t flinch. Because I too worked for the devil— wore his chains, spoke his language, until I learned to unspell myself. I saw the angel in him— not fallen, just lost. Like I was. I recognized the fear. The light he still had but couldn’t hold. He ran. Not from me, but from the mirror I became. And in his silence, I heard everything. I always wanted to be a teacher and dancer. And with our story, I taught. And I danced. He made us both sad. But sadness is sacred when it breaks you open to your own becoming. He was an angel. He just didn’t know. But I did though. And through his words and music, he made my soul grow. by Rosalind P. Steed I wrote this poem about a man I met — the same man I wrote about in my book The Devil I Didn’t Meet. Have you ever mistaken someone’s warning for who they truly were — and what did their presence (or their silence) end up teaching you about yourself?

When the weight gets heavy and the days feel long, when you’re trying to stay steady but everything feels wrong— know this: it won’t last. When your mind starts racing and your hope runs thin, when you’re fighting old battles you thought you’d already won again— breathe. This too shall pass. Waves roll in and waves roll out. What feels like the end is never the end— it’s a reroute. Pain hits hard, but it doesn’t stay. It teaches, it shifts, then it moves out of the way. You won’t always feel what you’re feeling today. Your heart will lighten, your path will clear, your strength will rise right out of the fear. You’ve survived every moment you thought you couldn’t get past. You’ll survive this one too— and you’ll rise right after it’s passed. Know this: nothing stays forever. Not even us. Nothing lasts. We too shall pass by Rosalind P. Steed . Reflective Questions What part of your life feels “heavy but temporary,” and what would shift if you believed it truly won’t last? When you look back at a moment you once thought would break you, what strength did you discover in yourself that you didn’t know you had?

The darkness brings your touch Daylight, your silence I long for more Even if just a speck or crumb Heart aching I wish you could be Who you say you are Hanging on by a thread But still holding It’s me who wants it I look for it every day Pretending Like it’s all okay Fooling Myself You fooling me Making me think harder How much more can I do And still not ready to give up

The smirk that drew me in Made me walk in circles Held my head swimming In the eternal depths at night Not once Not twice There were at least more That I remember Brisk air Alcohol Loud music He was ringing in my ears I thought I was following him But he had already been following me Looking each other up and down Excuses Finally we stand together No more dodging No longer are we coy at play Stood still Once more and you owe me a dinner I say Then I’ll need your number He says I walk away Smiling Giddy Caught He stands Watching Caught Game on Bartender yelling Last call I gather my things And head for the door I’m stopped I’m slung Over his shoulder I don’t even try to break away Playful I pretend I’m dead My weight he can carry I’ve got him at last Months and years go by Hate to love Love to hate We’re bound, and oh so sound My Italian Stallion The surest thing To ever happen And never end Poem. Lisa Karasek

My vision focusing Landing on every line Deep in perspective My mind goes til the end My mind once full of idle chatter Screeches to a halt And silence staggers in My breathing calms My heart follows Then peace floods my veins One by one my chakras tune Like a guitar in a smoky room And I’m wafting Through the veil I step With no intention or wish Just here to accept And be as grace The world drops away And I am one with myself Gifts of light bestowed upon me And I sit Still and perfect Nothing else matters Than this moment in time And space The space is my freedom My sanctuary My hOMe Here I am Human But one with the stars Bursts of energy Capture my heart My soul My destiny -poem. Lisa Karasek