You must remember
Rosemary, pansies, fennel,
Columbine and rue,
You forgot tansy, didn’t you?
When the ground freezes over
And your flowers crumble and brown
Let the ice in hamlet’s heart
And the red on his hands
Deliver him forever from you.
And when you return again
From your journey to the sea
Never forget
It is you.
It was never he.
Rana Kelly, Excerpt from ‘Songs of Ophelia,’ Darker Objects
“I suspect I am less a writer and more a medium. Words come to me from a noncorporeal place and possess my body. They move through my bloodstream like a storm and break my heart to pieces before they finally leak out of my fingertips onto a blank page and let me go. Usually, with demonic force and supernatural effect. I have to lose grip on myself to execute my best work. And by the time the storm passes, I am always spent. Because of the intensity of this experience, I can’t quite convince myself that I am the actual creator. This kind of magic always has a price. In order to make an even exchange, I feel it is my duty to honor the darkness. When I was asked to contribute to this project, the theme was an opportunity for gratitude. It has been an honor.”
–Rana Kelly
Rana Kelly was born and raised in the Deep South and now lives in the Southwestern desert, usually praying for rain. She published her first poem during childhood and has since published many more works, including a novel, creative nonfiction and personal essays in varied literary magazines and independent presses. She is enamored of pre-Christian mythology and pulls inspiration from it often. She dreams of finishing a proper Gothic before she escapes the mortal toil.
Indie Blu(e) Publishing 