The book has arrived! Many contributing authors besides Deborah DeNicola show you how to overcome adversity and soar into the spirit of your best self. Deborah’s essay “In the Light of the Dark, Black Night” discusses healing through embodied dream work.
Please go to this link to get tickets to the one day conference 1/22/2011 http://tiny.cc/vwbij Great Inspirational & Motivational 
Speakers! 
books | Deborah January 11, 2011 | 
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In Carpe Articulum Poetry Contest Winter Issue 2010 for . . .
The Tree at Casa Cara
Just off Route One
before Tigertail Corner, down the street from Casa Cara,
there’s a gargantuan banyan with limbs like Gothic buttresses.
I step in, genuflect, walk around the labyrinthine shadow,
and I am once again at Chartres. No cars come by. The bells
of birdsong cease and all is pagan
subtext. I am at worship, and welling at the root, a woivre
underground–Leaves of blue shoulder the spires, and light
sculpts with golden tongues something ancient
which in turn rejuvenates
and I don’t know if I have penance or license
here in Miami’s medieval groves where suddenly
centuries flow and coalesce. Early in adolescence, safe
behind the privet hedge of our suburb’s borders,
I wandered with him to find a place to lie
and kiss. There was no canopy like this but we erected
pleasure in the hammock of a willow. I almost
swore vows to the tree gods, or goddesses, but for the body’s
coveting touch, the soft branching of skirts that rush and juncture,
here and here . . . And though I have as much now
years after lust–I smother desire only a moment,
summoning rapture both below and above. It took–
generations and scaffolds and fires and wheels and
Templar monks—lifetimes
to raise that cathedral to its finish. And now
as clouds burn off, the banyan tree
at Tigertail flourishes down dimensional hallways
while the tablet of my hand glows,
alchemical in cobalt, in emerald.
His name was Jim. We were so very young
but we remembered the shoots of some other knowing,
domed in all that natural burgeoning
past the pillars into the nave.
awards | Deborah November 30, 2010 | Comments (0)
classes, events, workshops | Deborah November 24, 2010 | Comments (0)
Please join me and Jolie, the lovely owner 
of My Flora Aura, 26 SE 4th Street, Boca Raton, FL 33432, 561-901-5808 on 4 Monday nights Dec 6, 13, 20, 27th. Come bond with a group of dreamers. Dream Image Work Skills develop over time. The workshop will demonstrate a particular technique for understanding dreams without extensive intellectual analysis. Participants will enter an imaginative dreamscape and probe for feelings, associations and emotions that are grounded in images. The meaning of the dream figure unravels through the group discussion. One soon learns that anyone’s dream is a learning tool for looking at your own dreams. By association, by archetypal metaphors, by somatic reactions and emotional recognition, dreamers find the unconscious speaking through their images. You will be introduced to a technique that is useful alone or with others. http://www.myfloraaura.com/
Take a peek at the Publisher’s link: Word Press: Fine Literary Publishing or Purchase at Amazon.com: Original Human DeNicola: Books
This is lush and generous book, a stirring of myth and childhood always coming home to the flesh. A Gnostic Mary and a young girl on a swing are at home in the same dream space. Deborah DeNicola has written her richest book, and one to get delightfully lost in. —Doug Anderson
If Love Suffers Gladly
My left eye on the bougainvillea stinging with tanning lotion. The wind stolen like a kiss. And as birds entrain overhead only my solitude increases. I felt you through closed eyes, rubbing where sun block dripped, a searing pain like a blender blade whirring fish into soup. Tropical colors like week-old bruises. If love suffers gladly, I am happy to know even here, teetering over the other hemisphere, you are with me, airbound as spirit—And my own sighs are oceans with rip tides and the lapping of weeping. It is always such with women in mid-life. And most of the men—eons married—are so much more dear now, all of us weathered but wiser. Although I am almost exclusive, what’s left of this life includes you.
Announcement, poetry | Deborah November 5, 2010 | Comments (0)
