Emerge Literary Journal: 2023

Editor’s Note
It is summer, and as I reflect on our first double issue, Issue 26/27 of Emerge Literary Journal, I think of the metaphor, “No mud, no lotus.” The lotus begins its life in the muddy water below the surface of a pond or marsh. Gradually the pod pushes through the murky darkness reaching up toward the surface rippling above. In time it rises up from the water, unfurls its petals to the sun and the flower’s vibrant beauty is revealed. And just as the lotus must push through the muddy darkness before it can bloom, we must often push through our suffering in order to grow and find peace. It can be difficult to see growth in oneself. Perhaps you feel as if the waters you must reach through are too murky and deep for you to reach your surface. That’s what it feels like for me, but in moments of stillness I feel in my gut that facing my pain means I am growing. Much like I see it in the daffodils who must endure harsh winters to become vibrant blooms, much like I see it in the dogwoods who go on thriving even after their blossoms have gone because they know they will bloom again, this issue alludes to Hemingway’s words, “The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at broken places.” Certainly, this issue is a salute to finding this strength. Despite our hesitancy to hope, we do so anyway. We come back with a broader understanding that everything, good or bad, is temporary. Reality, more than ever, is tentative. But it goes on. We turn to the light. We find refuge in the arts. The arts give voice to our experiences and emotions—our fear and love, our loneliness and joy. These are the emotions you will find as an undercurrent within these pages. Most of all, you will find resilience.

Every issue, we come together in the pursuit of compiling an authentic reflection of diverse voices from a global literary community. We want our journal, in particular, to reflect the individual struggles we withstand, giving special care to champion the voices of the marginalized, and give a platform for their unique perspective. These pieces are hesitant and triumphant; and all provide a small glimpse into the world as we experience all of its imperfect beauty. We are sure you will find here works that are devastating, tender, strange, and honest. And, we are sure you will find at least some pieces that reflect your own journey, just as we did. Overall, we wanted to reflect the fact that sometimes the simple act of survival is an act of bravery. An act of growth.

In this issue, we celebrate contributors who have made writing and art their commitment and their constant, who have dared to share the fruits of their labor with us so we can share it with others. The poems in this issue are vulnerable, complex, and take risks. The prose restores us the kind of lyrical beauty that can only be had by humbly seeing things as they are. These pieces demand of readers an honesty we are usually reluctant to fully bring to bear on the circumstances of our lives. The answer to whether we succeeded in this mission lies within the journal itself. After all, creativity is the capacity to envision the world not necessarily as it is, but as it could be.

This issue is the finest gathering of work that will challenge, ground, excite, and delight you, the reader. This journal is necessary; it’s a mirror, a window. It’s a life all of its own. It’s determination embodied—it’s rock hard. It’s a wanting to survive because life wants to be lived. Whether you go from top to bottom, read through in reverse, or open the issue to a random page, we hope it’ll pull you in and remind you of what a miracle it is to be alive.

Warmest,
Ariana
Be Well. Write Well. Read Well.

Poetry

My Mother’s Green Couch || Claudia M. Reder

My Mother’s Blue Bedspread || Claudia M. Reder

Rescue Dog || KateLynn Hibbard

Different || KateLynn Hibbard

Odd, Beautiful Things || Jennifer R. Edwards

I Won’t Reproduce Your Disaster || Jennifer R. Edwards

Appointment || Janis Greve

So the shooting star did hear us || Teresa Areces

Le papillon à trois yeux || Teresa Areces

Parts of Speech || Rachel Linton

Night and Day || Rachel Linton

A Letter (Dear August) || Rachel Linton

A Kiss by the River || Tammy Greenwood

Bar of Soap ||Tammy Greenwood

ribs may split but stains speak softly || Justin Clark

the fires in virginia || Justin Clark

Private Party || Hunter Burke

Whale Dream || Hunter Burke

At the World’s Knee || Sydney Ling

Genesis || Sydney Ling

Esperanza Corner

If Joni Mitchell can be depressed, so can I || Sally R. Simon

Jasmine || Rina Olsen

ELJ believes that #mentalillnessawareness and #endingthestigma are of paramount importance. We believe in the necessity of sharing our mental illness and trauma stories to facilitate writing through illness and create broader awareness. We’ve created this corner to allow writers to not only share their stories but to be home to those who share in their experiences.