Alessandra Barlas
Just over a week ago, the world lost a living angel, Alessandra Barlas. No words can ever replace the presence of such an incredible young woman and daughter, but these words humbly seek to honor Ali.
Last night I sought the solace of an evening walk

To warm myself within God’s heavenly embrace,
Beneath the celestial canopy of midnight’s awe

To feel hallowed angelic breath upon my face
Yet this night I walked in darkness, cold and alone
This was the night angels carried

Alessandra home

I came…
To mourn and to grieve her beauty, her grace
To find understanding in this cold, empty space
To remember this angel who dared to tread earth
To offer her love, her compassion, her worth
Yet true understanding slipped away from me
Like a feather in the wind, like a prayer set free
The stars fell about me in sputtering light
Into the void that exists between Darkness and Light
Except for the brightest where dusk and dawn unite
And there I saw Ali, a lone star shining bright
Her life…
Was a promise in ascendant stride
Loving generosity, the absence of pride
Like a flower upon the vine in the fullness of bloom
That was carelessly plucked a lifetime too soon
Like the sweetest of wine out-poured from the Sun
A garland of hope in a world come undone
And I heard her whisper…
Remember me when I was in the field of flowers,
Sweet sunlight woven through my wind-tossed hair,
My eyes lit with a love unending forged by our hearts
Don’t remember me now as I lay here dying,
Weep not those tears from your unseeing eyes,
I will love you always this dream we shared.
Remember how I looked in my mother’s arms,
Sweet cries of ecstasy trembling from my lips,
My heart soaring with the fire of the stars
Don’t remember my skin…it would have faded with age,
Angelic flesh is immune to the whims of time,
Lips blue from a kiss of death, God’s breath
Remember me as I was, so bright and happy,
When our friendships were new and strong,
Our days dancing and laughing careless and free.
Don’t remember me as I am, laying here cold,
For our love shall never die broken and brittle,
Remember the flowers I put in our hair
Golden and purple crowns upon our heads
We ruled this Earth as royalty, but now I’m free
Yes, remember the joy that will echo back to you
When evenings like this are cold and dark
Feel the warmth of me always in your dreams.
Beneath this moonbeam’s glow, where soft winds blow
Remember me as i shall always remember you
With joy and warmth and laughter and dry eyes
And I prayed…
I hope her inspiring spark remains
her joy to fill our grieving chests,
enabling us to forever feel
the undying light within her death



You ask if love’s forever –
A promise I can’t make,
But if I could, or thought I should
I would not hesitate.

I’d promise you forever
And then a day or two
If I were free to guarantee
Forever loving you.

But promises are born of doubt
A doubt that’s seldom real;
The love we know can only grow
In trusting what we feel.
Yet, I’ll promise you this moment
If words can still your fears;
Just hold me now and show me how
To love you through the years.


My thoughts on life….


We are closest to God when we exhibit compassion.  We are furthest when we withold it.

– dlmchale

Upon Awakening,…Vanishing Dreams

“Wisdom” by Derek del Barrio
Photo Courtesy of Derek del Barrio, 2015

I awoke to a kiss, a whispered taste
softly pressed upon my face,

and in that moment, my soul,  it wished
to know once more that soulful kiss!

Yet it was a vapor of a waking dream.
Nothing more; not what it seemed.

These wretched ghosts that find delight
in morning’s light, dancing and playing

betraying with the dust of sorrowed dreams
promises broken, and vows false spoken!

Violently shaken in the sudden waking
arms no more to hold me tight
through winter nights…I am awake. I am awake.

Where, gentle caress of morning rain?
that eases my pain; The merciful patter

that shatters my hold on false dreamt love
each drop above my window pane, slowly
washing in rivulets the memories set
under granite stone..I lie alone. I lie alone.

Enduring ink upon the page, how do I gauge
What’s real? What’s myst? What’s relevant?

Unlock the night, Release my dreams
silence the screams, and write for me
an ending poem, whereby I lie here not alone.

How sweet the dream that never ends?
Where love ascends and kisses dealt

are truly felt in dark of night.


As you know, from time to time I’ll feature a new poet on The Winter Bites My Bones. I am pleased to spotlight an emerging poet and talent, Steven Cehula.  Although I’ve only known Steve a short time, there are few young artists that back passion with street crede in both his writing and his personality.  Steve is an intelligent, intuitive young poet with an obvious thirst for the art of expressing the mysteries of living through the written word. Please join me in welcoming Steve to our WordPress family!

A pleasant smell that frequently accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather.

Petrichor in the air tonight,
as rain falls to my delight;
tumbling off angel wings,
as it falls the wind does sing.

Sing of now and sing of night,
present turns to past as dusk
doth flourish at loss of light.

So tumble down and cleanse the soul,
feeding grass make this earth whole.


About Steve Cehula:

Life Enthusiast. Born in Alaskan; now living and loving in South Orange County. I love to travel the world embracing the new cultures and friends I meet. Besides writing I have a voracious appetite for reading, fine food, and stimulating conversation.

An Eternal Sunrise


The sunrise is eternal.
Our measured days are not.
Yet still, somehow, in this moment now
I am lifted beyond mortality;
baptized by this burnished dawn
and set afire with daring possibility.

All too soon, the damp, cold earth
will grip us by the ankle
and pull us downward.

This morning is not that day.

Heaven ascends before my eyes
kissed by the reflection of amber rays;
my heartbeat echoing the foaming surf
while prayers dance among the murmuration
of winged clouds in dawn’s soft pastel light.

The world spins round.

This is my temple,
and my soul, shrouded in the rolling fog
of a new day, now lifted by salted winds.

I slip the bonds of my earthly servitude
and ascend upon the gilded rays of a new day –
lifted gently like a newborn in its mothers warm embrace.

The Dying Sun

Painting by Charles Yates

In the bitter waves of loss,
Thrashed and tossed about,
By the sullen winds of life that blow,
From the desolate shores of doubt,
Where the anchors of love once cast
In search of eternal purchase
Now dragging useless in sorrow’s gale.
I am quietly holding fast, holding alone
To the things that cannot fail.


That’s what I seek (although my heart knows full well)
The truth is, I may never be able to know for sure why.
But I do know that there is no single
“Should have done” or “could have done”
Or “did” or “didn’t do”
That would have changed that why.
All that love could do was left undone.
This shipwreck, my castaway life,
This endless frothing of cold, death-capped waves
Was due to my taking my eyes off the horizon
Where our dreams were setting with the dying sun.