Empath

  • It’s Love

    Perhaps I am here to write. But at the core of that, at the core of my words, at the core of my message…I’m here to love. I always have been, and it’s more clear to me now that I’m… Continue reading

  • Like I am

    Deep within my heart there is a river, raging on. And I ask this river to be careful. ‘I am fragile,’ I say, on the softest breath. ‘Sway me, always, never to rush me, never demand. Hold me carefully, river.… Continue reading

  • Clear Air

    One day, she sits alone, and understands it all. That she’s never been alone. That all this time their pain has lived within her, pain she never asked for, pain that is not hers to bear. Clear air is what… Continue reading

  • Unravelled

    Music brought me undone again, today. Unravelled. Beautifully. Thoroughly. And though it’s not a surprise that music can so easily undress my soul, it is often a surprise to feel the way it surges and dances through my body. How… Continue reading

  • At Five

    Sometimes I feel five. Like the world is big and I am small. And there are kids all around bigger than me, louder, scarier, bolder than this softness that folds me like tissue. (No one else folds like tissue. Just… Continue reading

  • Relative Darkness

    I’m sitting in the relative darkness and life is happening, all around. In the bedrooms, my children are sleeping. In the branches, possums are creeping across the night. There are bugs out the window by the thousands, spiders spinning elaborate… Continue reading

  • Together

    This morning I was taken back to the year 1997, when I sat glued to the television, hoping with all of my everything that a man named Stuart Diver would be rescued from beneath a mountain of rubble — the… Continue reading

  • Innocent War

    And there you are with eyes wide closed, slicing through bullies with the very hatred you oppose. It is all pain, to me. The daggers of hate disguised as love. The broken ways in which change is achieved in this… Continue reading

  • All Of Me

    This morning, I stood at the sink and cried. Years ago, quite by accident, and quite without me knowing why…I stopped crying after a lifetime of being a human river. I didn’t notice it happening, it just happened and there… Continue reading

  • Write With The Wind

    I cannot create unless I soften. I cannot write with the wind, I must become it. I am the beautiful breeze that flows these words into the sky of all things. Human is but a small part of me. The… Continue reading