Welcome!
"Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses
yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your
teeming shore,
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me:
I lift my lamp beside
the golden door."
— Emma Lazarus, 1883
The Incarnation of Troy
She was
carved in wood,
like wind:
holy,
haloed,
still as the
sacred ground;
a miracle of
harvest embedded
in her
scarred hands,
budding
spruce in the shade,
flourishing
in the wet stone,
the heroine
stately as
beautiful mares
on the plains of Troy.
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Thank you for visiting the official site of
The Emily Isaacson Institute!
Emily Isaacson is poet, photographer, international nutritionist and humanitarian. Her stylized poetry has captured the hearts of Canadians, and her postmodern book, 'The Fleur-de-lis' is coming to bookstores in 2010!
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Reading ‘The Fleur-de-lis’ is like the refreshing fragrance in the air when the sun comes out after raining much of the day. Emily Isaacson takes you on a journey through nature line by line and poem by poem as she points to the story in a leaf or upward to the sky above. Every word dances off the pages and into your soul to brighten your day. Her finely chosen words expand the reader’s imagination: as you reap the wealth of her golden words, they glitter in your heart. Emily is truly the Poet of St. Clare and her writings will inspire you.
Preston T. Bailey, Jr., Ph.D.
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The
Lion and the Unicorn
When the moon wept,
transient in its wakeful vigil,
sonorous
as an Ethiopian sky,
soft-spoken without a lie.
And now, the two kneel in solemn oath,
as good as a night wand, sprinkling stars;
one country, touching another,
in dedication and romance.
England and Scotland, unveiled,
reaching as though to find
some glorious sanction, once foretold,
and the splendor of years.
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Xaytem Longhouse is the site of a 9,000 year-old Salish village,
and transformer stone, located here in Mission B.C.
To visit international nutritionist Emily Isaacson
Give a donation to
The Emily Isaacson Institute:
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The lily and the rose,
the old
sorrowful rite,
and the
dreary note:
a white
unicorn on the horizon—
plaited
stars into the night.
From the
garden where the rose
is yours
and the obsession:
both
royal and solemn.
The birth
pangs of God, tried,
stealing
fury of aborted man,
ever-new
we, staid,
traverse and rhyme.
To the
stony walls,
unforgiving woes,
the empty
silent hallway,
last
light, endeavoring to quote.
Visit Emily's Blog:
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