Categories
Poetry

Eternally

This silence

is the cloud I fall upon

when I don’t know where to fly.

How beautiful

just to float.

Here.

Now.

Eternally.

Categories
Poetry

This Quiet Storm

I am me.

Just me.

Not who you think I am.

Not who you wish I would be.

Just who I am.

This quiet storm.

Me.

Categories
Poetry

Now They Are One

Shadow dancer on the wall.

Darling of light and form.

A body.

A wall.

Each but a fragment of life

until they find each other.

Now they are one, yes.

Now they are one.

Categories
Poetry

Today

I have found myself, today.

Once again I am everything I am.

I am the passionate stroke of theatre,

and the softest touch of poetry.

My colours are pastel:

peach and mauve,

whimsical tendrils

and earthy wooden grain.

I am woman,

and I am the ocean.

I am life

and I am love.

This day.

Authentically beautiful.

I shall sip on it and call it home.

Categories
Poetry

Still I Dream

With these soft eyes,

I turn to the angry mob

and I speak.

I tell them to leave me be.

I tell them I want no part

in the way they raise their swords

and bring each other down.

I ask them to spare me their daggers.

They will not understand my requests.

They will see my silver sky and call it grey.

Still, I hope.

Still, I dream of a new day.

Categories
Poetry

The Web

It is beautiful,

I think,

to be a very small thread

on the web of it all.

Photo by Dominika Roseclay on Pexels.com

Categories
Poetry

One

Here we are, world.

Another day of co-creation.

I do not own you.

You do not own me.

And yet we are one

becoming many

through each moment,

each hour,

each breath held

or released

in the face of it all.

Photo by Jeffrey Czum on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

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 me.)

The softness of me at five

lingers;

a scent

(like lavender)

on the breeze

of my soul.

The softness of me.

The softness of me.

Categories
Poetry

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 to be held,

and yet this is not the way life works.

Life will hold you as it holds you

so that you may learn

and grow

and be.

Love is born in the quiet room

between expectation and reality.

Hold yourself in your quiet

and you will finally say:

I am loved.

I am loved.

Photo by Daria Shevtsova on Pexels.com

Categories
Poetry

Little Light

What colour shall I paint my sky?

Soft-pink and grey:

clouds of spun sugar,

sweet dreams that drift me to life?

Bring me a cool breath of clarity.

Bring me a little light,

and I will shine it, wherever I may go.

Though the roads may crumble

and darken

and fade,

I will have my little light.

I will have my sweet dreamy sky.

Photo by James Wheeler on Pexels.com