Poetry

  • The River I Am

    The river I am. I fall in love with the next creative thing, and there I stay for a while (but not forever.) When I create, I flow, I cannot be boxed. I am sometimes a writer. Sometimes a musician.… Continue reading

  • Choosing Better

    The darkness of life is a wonderful teacher. I’ve been there a time or two, and now I say, ‘no’. Lovingly, with fire and ice, I say no. No, thank you. No. Thank you, no more. Such a lovely relief,… Continue reading

  • Feel

    Some days, I can’t be here for you. Some days I need you, to hold my softness and let me fall. It is a beautiful drift of snow that feathers the earth of me. A gentle spring breeze beyond the… Continue reading

  • One Small Me

    If I am not her, that good and lovely girl in a box, who am I? Now that this body is alive with the energy of all of life, who am I? I believe this, but I believe the opposite… Continue reading

  • The Sound Of Silence

    How lovely it was to call the darkness an old friend. The darkness inside, the darkness outside. Did they even know it was both of which they spoke? A Neon God was made so beautifully to shine light for all… Continue reading

  • The Eyes Of Others

    She is the golden skin by lamplight. She is not the beauty they see in her face, her eyes, her hair. She is glorious alone. Without the eyes of others. Continue reading

  • I’m Here

    I’m here, at the moment. I’m not lost in some dream. I’m not missing the things or people I don’t have. I’m just here. I’m tired, feeling the heaviness of my eyes. I’m growing new life, feeling baby stretch within… Continue reading

  • Forever Home

    Sorrow is quiet and soft. How strange, that during the saddest times, the quiet is the loudest voice of all. Tonight, I send my voice into the stillness. To honour the love and the sorrow that lingers when we lose… Continue reading

  • Wherever I May Go

    Life and her currents. I feel them like tears in my bones. And all I can do is let the river run, let the stream carry me wherever I may go. Through the high clouds of white. Through the deep… Continue reading

  • To Live

    The wind will call and you will know. And it won’t tell you why, and it won’t tell you what but you will follow blindly, hopefully, until the sun peaks ’round the bend and the horizon dazzles in ways far… Continue reading