Growth

  • 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

  • Bloom

    No rose (not a single one) ever bloomed in an instant. Listen to the silence of the journey. Let the rose bloom as she will. Continue reading

  • For Now

    In a world of fire, I am the stream. Peace. My heart wants nothing more, my soul wants nothing less. I am tired. So tired of the saddest story: well meaning fighters, fighting for good, creating the worst kind of… Continue reading

  • Just A Game

    Is it worth these precious breaths? This fight, this blame, this game? Is it really so important? People die (people who are loved) and still we take for granted life. And we fight, and we blame in this game. It’s… Continue reading

  • Nature

    I sat beside the river and smiled. It seemed a little funny to me that us humans believe we are the stars of this Earth show and that nature is here for us, rather than with us. What if we… Continue reading

  • Possibilities

    The possibilities are endless. The possibilities are endless. Dare to look. Dare to see. Continue reading

  • Home Alone

    I’m home alone, tonight. And when I say I’m home alone, I mean my children are here, my husband is not. And when I say my husband is not, I mean I’ve been keeping a secret, and that secret is… Continue reading

  • I Am Loved

    There you are behind a soft, uncertain smile, surprised that you are loved. You are loved. It is your expectation that has made it seem not so. You see the world and ask it to hold you as you wish… Continue reading

  • Open. Release.

    But did they give you a box of darkness? Or was the darkness already inside of you. Waiting for someone to press: open. And release. Continue reading

  • On Writing

    I write a lot about real life events. Sometimes I connect to fantasy and spin a beautiful story from worlds that don’t exist, but often I write from a place deep within. A place of memory, but more than that.… Continue reading