Learn from the leaf And not the tree Fall if you must But softly Be gentle with yourself Life isn’t easy The breeze tries to carry The wind shatters Tree crashes But the leaf Being light Knows descending gently matters The last week was like surmounting a personal Everest. Hard exhausting climb, exultant high of […]
The revolution of a spiral. A circle. The wind-chime sound of movement. If all we are doing is constantly changing, who are we to claim authenticity? What does authenticity resemble when the self is disassembling daily? Somewhere in all the motion — the incomplete decisions, the conflicting inner opinions — is a small, anchored “I.” […]
Cradling the warm bowl of soup I sip palms tingle as I hug the bowl Heated liquid slides down my throat and starbursts fill my chest All I have I offer to you and my hands are no less warm my heart no less heated for what is shared becomes multiplied *Care is more than […]
I’m writing as my personal self on Instagram again. As writers, we have an audience — but not all audiences are the same. When I’m writing to the WordPress community, I come as I am. I always have. The fact that other people outside of WP can see what I write in my slippers and […]
The Winton Writers Festival is drawing to a close. Some have already left. Some are off exploring dinosaurs or sitting quietly with new books and thoughts. There were sunset drinks and final conversations, photos taken in golden light, and that strange sense of holding something while it’s still happening — knowing it’s about to become […]
A dog digging a hole is happy Sometimes they are digging to bury a bone Or investigate a noise Lost in the digging they avoid all thought other than I Am Digging But when they surface happily panting A little wild eyed Is when the reality arrives And they wonder if perhaps that great and […]
The Bridge I’ve Been Building I’ve been walking toward this for a long time. For me, writing poetry has never been about craft or output.It’s about return.It’s how I come back to myself when the world — or my own patterns — have carried me too far away. I was thinking about it this morning […]
What if what’s up there isn’t heaven? What if hell is not below? What if both are not places but presences — things that live in the spaces all around us, shifting their nature according to our thoughts? What if we know nothing about death or dying? What if we don’t go anywhere — we’re […]
A poem that asks how a writer can hold space for people to arrive at their discovery without explanation, honours presence and personal insight over the presumption to give advice, or explain anything.
A poem written beneath the sky and the pressure of being. A reflection on solitude, soul, and remembering who we are before the noise.
