The Stairway


The dream is very real. I find myself in the middle of an elegant anteroom. I am the only person in the room. I am at peace. My attention moves to a lovely, curved staircase. The bannister is dark wood, the stairs are a pale beige. Beause of the curve, I cannot see where the stairs lead. To an upper level, but what awaits me up there?

I can hear music – very soft music. I move slowly to the stairs, being drawn by some unknown force. I start up the stairs – I am floating, my feet do not touch the stairs.

(c) February 2018 Bonnie Cehovet
Reproduction prohibited without written permission of the author.


Peace – At What Price?


I joined the line, candle in hand. Not exatly sure why I was here. It sounded like a good idea – a community ceremony for peace. Heaven knows there have been enough problems – problems that were under the surface until now. Well, now the wound has opened, and it is much deeper than anyone realized.

This is the quietist line I have ever been in. We look at each other, smile reassuringly, then look away again. Our hearts are torn open, and we are living in fear.

I step forward, and light my candle. A sense of peace comes over me.

(c) November 2016 Bonnie Cehovet

Reproduction prohibited without written permission of the author.

I Return Here Often


I used to love sitting out on the patio, under the trees, just enjoying my coffee and lookiing up through the branches, into the sky. It was so very peaceful. This is where many of my answers came from – answers to life’s big problems, and to its little ones.

Then I moved on – learning took on many new forms. But I was always able to find my center, to find my peace.

I come back here occasionally, to reminisce. I stay a while, ┬áthen I go back. This marks my portal from one world to the next – I am buried here, under the trees.

(c) October 2016 Bonnie Cehovet
Reproduction prohibited without permission of the author.

The Christmas Gift

Catherine looked around her, soaking in all of the happiness and joy that permeated the room. This had almost not happened … she had almost allowed the opportunity to pass her by. Here she was, with everything that she could wish for in this world, and she felt so isolated. She had made the effort to try and recreate a Christmas in her home that would bring her joy and peace. ┬áThe setting was lovely – the beautiful colors, the plants, the tree that shimmered with lights and memories shaped as tree ornaments. But something was missing.

She had shopped, sent presents and cards … even called close friends. The elusive joy and peace were there, but only for a few seconds. How could she make it last? She had been sitting here last night, listening to music, her soul filling with the grace of the season. It was then that it came to her … she needed to invite her friends and neighbors in for a small gathering.

She stayed up that night baking Christmas cookies, pies, and cakes, and spent the early afternoon putting together light sandwiches and other finger food. A friend’s son acted as bartender, as Christmas music played in the background.

Here was her Joy, here was her Peace – it was found in the company of others, in gentle celebration of the season. Life is good, when we listen to our heart!


(c) December 2011 Bonnie Cehovet