about Calla Press, the Literary Journal
WHO WE ARE
We publish articles on faith, poetry, prose, essays, flash fiction, short fiction, and book excerpts. Max is 5,000 WC per literary genre.
As of August 2026, we are open for online literary submissions only. We are currently not accepting entries for a print journal at this time. Please subscribe to know when we do open for a print journal!
Please fill out our Formester form here to apply and submit your work. Entries submitted by any other means will be overlooked. Thank you for understanding. Please wait two weeks before submitting new work. Simultaneous submissions welcome. Please expect to wait one to two months before hearing back about the status of your submission.

Welcome to Calla Press
Calla Press began in 2017, when our founder first started publishing others' work on her website. In 2019, that early collection of writing evolved into an online literary journal through Issuu every year thereafter, laying the foundation for what would become Calla Press.
The journal soon expanded into an annual print publication. You can find our published journals online.
Today, Calla Press is an established literary journal publishing work submitted online on a rolling basis. We remain committed to creating a thoughtful, lasting space for writers and their work.
Articles
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WHERE WINGS ARE FASHIONED I have seen your steadfast giftings– hidden away, silently decreasing in a battered coffer. The enemy’s waxen seal disheartened you but it ought not di...
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Kissing Foreheads by Sharon Ide
The soft lamp stands sentinel, a lighthouse through the night. Peace manifests as a clear brow, parted lips, warm breaths. I gently stroke fine hair away to plant a tender kiss on this frag...
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Eternity Do you want to see A piece of eternity? Take a closer look Into this tiny place, Eternity confined In a single heart In a breathing shape. Nothing I can add, Nothin...
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Caress — a song of Solomon by Patrick T. Reardon
I seek you. My soul thirsts for you. My flesh longs. I have seen you in the garden. Your lovingkindness is the song of my lips. I lift up my hands to you. You are marrow to me. Yo...
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Mary Overheard in Conversation with Herself by Lesley-Anne Evans
I do not say this swaddling blanket. I say remember the smell of those shepherds with their eyes as big as moons. I do not say this chisel. I say it seems like yesterday when you helped me kn...
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I lock the door, engulfed in fear— none can come near— not anymore. No need to weep. No cause for bliss. Secure in this locked safe, I sleep. Jesus, invade my fortress. Break my safe’s lock. ...
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