Flow

  • Sweet Muse of Mine

    Where do you go, sweet bell? Where do you hide when I long to feel your voice sing through my bones? I only know you; the place I call home. I only know you, dear constant voice of heart, of… Continue reading

  • Creativity Rises

    I intend to write one thing and another is born. Creativity rises. It controls me, not the other way around. The poem I’ve just written began with a feeling of being stuck. Stuck in COVID lockdown. Stuck in a middle… Continue reading

  • A Mysterious Animating Force

    The sweet divinity that lingers at the edge of life. Writers and artists know it well. Actors and musicians feel it within their bodies. And none of us have any clue as to what it is. Not even those who… Continue reading

  • All I Am

    How lovely it is to find home again. In this home I am what I am, and what I am is a river, a rock, a lion, a ballerina. What I am is all I am. All I am is… Continue reading

  • Only And Always

    The wind cannot be caught. It cannot be moulded to perfection, scraped and gutted and made to be something other than what it is. The wind is only, and always, the wind. And you are only and always you. Flow… Continue reading

  • I See Me

    The soft girl whispers in my ear. I drift each cushion to the foot of the bed and carefully place it off to the side, as if it were made of precious, gold leaf. I peel back the doona; the… Continue reading

  • Somewhere

    Somewhere between the quiet and the haze, I go to sit for a while. Somewhere between the quiet and the haze. And you might ask me what I hope to find there. You might ask me if it’s true. That… Continue reading

  • Emerald Sweet

    I breathe but I can’t feel you. I soften but creation does not flow. Am I stuck? Or do I just think I am stuck because I am not flying through raw wisps of forestland? It is my choice to… Continue reading

  • The Soft Girl Snooze

    I like to pop in every day, if I can. Often there are days that I miss, and today was going to be one of them. I’m just a bit tired, today. The only me I have available to give… Continue reading

  • For Love

    People call them boundaries. I just call them walls. To keep the love in. Or out. I could use a boundary or two. But what would I be if it wasn’t for love? What would I be if it wasn’t… Continue reading