Call of Oblivion
Pieces of me fly off to the aetherswhere my heart has always livednever to be found again for they have their own lives nowmaking the best of fragmentation.The magic of a soul that doesn’t want to be whole is the seeds the pieces becomedispersed across the universeto grow worlds that makefor an exquisite fit. Each… Continue readingAcceptance, Adversity, Cosmos, Cycles, death, depression, Earth, Endings, Essential, fire, freeverse, Grief and Loss, growth, Intention, nature, New Beginnings, Otherworld, Overcoming, Philosophy, Poetry, Shadow Work, Sky, surrender, The Void, Transformation, Transition, water, World
My fraying seams are not what they seem. It’s my style to be rough around the edges that are typically smooth, protecting tame hearts that beatan assigned pattern. But I have a wild heart. She was ripped out and scavenged so many times, the threads holding her inside me are worn. I’m not searching for… Continue readingAcceptance, Adversity, Cosmos, Cycles, death, Earth, Endings, freeverse, Grief and Loss, growth, Love, New Beginnings, Overcoming, Philosophy, Poetry, Prose, Self Acceptance, Sky, time, Transition, WorldApocalypse, compassion, cosmic, Cosmos, creation, Fabric of Creation, grief, Grief and Loss, growth, Heart, heartache, loss, Love, philosophy, poem, poetry, Threads, Weaver, Weavers, wild
The Nature of a Shift
Things always change the moment I make peace with what is. I contemplate until I reach the essence in the foundations of existence. What a journey it is, to be a traveler, never in one place for long enough to get comfortable. Such is the nature of a shift. I stretch so far beyond myself… Continue readingAcceptance, Adversity, conflict, Cosmos, Cycles, Essential, Fantasy, freeverse, growth, Intention, New Beginnings, Overcoming, Philosophy, Poetry, Prayers, Self Acceptance, Short Stories, Sky, Spirit, surrender, Transformation, Transition, wind, World
Oh, the hunger That never leavesBut only sleeps In the depths of me,Comfortable in complacency. The trappings of safety Are the walls of peace, Chosen unknowingly in exchangeFor Passion asleep.Is it really peace at all When the heart is heaving,Crying, and eventually silent,Dying of thirst?Some say love of self Is enough. And some say it is… Continue reading
I wrote my first story when I was a wee girl of three, followed by my first poem when I was eight. I’ve been writing ever since as a way to cope with life. This practice evolved with learning in both structured settings and through the practice, itself. In my own healing crisis, I found a process I affectionately refer to as Poetic Alchemy. Now on the journey of getting my life back, I do this not only for myself but for you.