This is where we begin.

Sweat and Sacred Sunrise

When I head out to the gym in the morning, the sky is still dark, the stars fighting for the last word with the approaching dawn.

I don’t really like to exercise, but I like the feeling a good workout gives me. So I crawl out of bed… Read more

Message on the Mountain

Too trite, too terse, too stale, too small—ideas dangled in the air, yet I could hold none in my hands. I needed something to write, some prose to pin to paper. But again and again, my frantic fumblings ended with empty hands… Read more

The Spiritual Practice of Gardening

I am a Southern California girl, born and raised, transplanted 25 years ago to the Pacific Northwest near Seattle.  The weather is starkly different than my old Orange County clime. There are no, ahem, seasons in Southern California, only a variation on the words ‘sunny’, ‘partially sunny’,Read more

Mining the Moments for Joy

This morning I noticed the ghostly image, as the sun traced the outline of my window upon the sloped ceiling of my writing room. The edges were indistinct, soft… Read more

A Season to Love

Everything is brown and gray
The earth, the trees, the sky
It’s the winter of despair
It seems to go on without end
Until, as if overnight
The camelia blooms victoriously… Read more

Make a Way in Me

You are faithful, even in the midst of the raging storm. You are the God who calms the seas; surely, You can calm the sea in me. Calm the raging sea in me; say to my mind and soul, “Peace, be still”… Read more

A Turn in the River

We visit caverns, meadows and reefs after this
a turn in the river that leads us to sleep.

The gates to these landscapes unlock behind
our eyelids; rest is the key that opens them… Read more


I am sat just off the bark-strewn path. Legs curled seed-like underneath a spine glowing with the memory of pain. In my mind’s eye I come here often, cheating the seasons. That’s one good thing about having to travel by imagination… Read more


A sigh a stirring
Cool touch at day’s end
Moist whisper speaks
From night skies and
Hints of rain to come… Read more

I ran back down the slopes, back toward home.  The fog still swirled over the fields, but it was beginning to lift in my spirit.

Ashlyn McKayla Ohm

We gather to grow, to pay attention and tell the world what we observe.

This is a community of female writers who wish to change the world through beauty, truth, and living fully awake.

About Us

Awake Our Hearts is an online literary publication celebrating the gift of creativity, faith, God’s goodness and beauty, and the voice of women.

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