A whirlwind through a field of flowers.
A glimpse of sun during a storm.
A cold shower after a night out.
A first warm day in spring.
A delicious cup of coffee.
A sunset on a beach.
A breath of fresh air.
A lunar eclipse.
A goddess.
A poem.
Tag: blogger
The Beauty Within Me
One day I woke up
And noticed a difference.
My mind felt free,
Anxiety diminished.
My thoughts weren’t racing,
My heart filled with ease.
A clarity so clear,
My soul truly pleased.
It feels so natural,
Like I channeled something else.
A powerful embracement from
The highest version of myself.
I say out loud,
“This is how I’m supposed to be.”
Blinded by the growth
Of the beauty within me.
Clarity
Let’s take a step back
From where your mind has taken you.
A moment to view
This from a different lense.
You may be thinking
Of what’s to come,
Or reflecting too much
On what’s already done.
Be present.
Be still.
Be mindful.
Sometimes it isn’t
What your brain makes it seem.
Write down your emotions,
Your feelings,
Your worries.
Be realistic,
Recognize the truth.
Meditate on clarity
And how it relates to you.
Inhale truth.
Exhale imagination.
These worries, these anxieties
Are not set in stone.
Sometimes the best medicine
Is putting down your phone.
Distractions and influences
Distort our point of view.
Exhaling imagination
Is the simplest thing to do.
“We suffer more in imagination than in reality.”
Seneca
Breathe
It’s time to breathe.
Let’s take a moment
To find some peace and quiet.
Grab your favorite mug.
Make some tea,
And add some honey.
Grab a crystal,
Light an incense,
And sit somewhere comfy.
Breathe in
1
2
3
4
Hold it for a moment.
Breathe out
4
3
2
1
Hold your crystal,
Deep inhale,
Take a sip of tea.
Breathe in and out,
Center yourself,
And find your inner peace.
You are safe.
You are loved.
You are calm.
You are present.
Nothing can disrupt
This tiny piece of heaven.
Use this as a tool,
Something as a guide
For when you’ve had a rough day.
Don’t ever forget –
The Universe loves you
In every single way.
Witchy Woman
A speak easy in Brooklyn
On a Tuesday night in fall.
Trying to forget the stress
That this day has caused me.
I take a swig, put down my glass
And glance around the room.
Suddenly, an energy shift,
I begin to seek the cause.
Goosebumps rise on my skin
As the air begins to change.
I sense someone near,
A powerful force.
A scent of red wine and sage.
Her hair a shade of lavender.
Crystal jewelry all over her body
Glimmers as she glides across the room.
She speaks with grace, a casual tone
As if everyone’s a familiar.
Her aura is brilliant and bright,
Like a full moon in the sky on a clear night.
Who is she?
Where’d she come from?
I’ve never seen her here before.
She must be from out of town.
I’m flustered, but calm.
What a sight to see.
In the presence of a mystery.
She’s a poem in the flesh.
When words can only
Take you so far
And the reader’s left wondering,
‘What’s next?’.
I look away for a moment
As I order another drink.
In need of liquid courage
To try and get her name.
But as I turn around,
Again I feel a change.
I realize the moment has passed
And my head is now adrift.
She’s gone, just like that.
How did I miss her leaving?
Disappeared in an instant
As if she were a ghost.
I think about her to this day.
She’s a lovely memory.
Occasionally still feel her presence
As if she’s never left me.
The Hurricane
She’s known as a hurricane.
Words like whipping winds.
Footsteps like crashing thunder.
Her aura, blinding lightening.
Only seeking
The destruction
Of all that’s in her path.
Keep your distance.
Take cover.
She’s a ruthless storm.
But these days,
She’s a sun shower.
Light is peeking
Through her clouds;
Picking up flower petals
In her cool breeze
On a scolding day in summer.
She’s gentle,
Though the rain still pours.
On Rain
Glorious on a gloomy day,
As rain drops fall
Hitting the window.
Something about
The dense gray sky
And puddles forming
On the concrete.
A light mist
Turning into a drizzle.
Bubbles on puddles,
Resembling soda fizzles.
Gazing at
The soggy ground,
The sky begins
To speak.
A deep
But soft growl,
The storm is not
At its peak.
A gentle rain,
A gloomy day,
Some candles,
And a blanket.
A picturesque
Scenario
With a soothing
Sense of warmth.
The chilly fall weather
In late September
Is always unpredictable.
Cozied up
In the dark.
A flash
And then a boom.
The drizzle,
Now a down pour
Hits harder
On the glass.
A sense of peace –
Nothing to do,
But to enjoy
The show.
My favorite type of day
You might say.
A beautiful day
For rain.
Sauvignon Blanc
One of those nights,
Maybe I’ll write.
But my mind feels dry
Just like this wine.
Glass one, two, three, four.
Maybe if I shut the door.
Enclose myself,
Put the glass on the shelf.
Get a few words,
Okay, this sounds good.
Thoughts pop in
And out again.
Damn.
That was almost something.
Sometimes it flows,
And I just know.
Other times,
I have to pry.
I had a good ending,
But I gotta admit,
It completely slipped my mind.
Another swig or two,
Something to do
While I wait for the inspiration to hit me.
Ten, eleven, twelve, one.
It seems as if the wine has won.
Trying to find the phrase,
These hours feel like days.
I hate to force,
But I can’t find the source
Of my art this quiet night.
Embodied
Embodied are the memories,
Experiences of those before you.
Many have passed through this door
To get away, to reflect, to find peace.
Inspiration around you,
Vibrations from the strings.
A lovely state of solitude,
In this tiny little nook.
An orchestra of sound emerges
With the full moon rise.
Striking cords around the fire
Toasting marshmallows, making s’mores.
The crickets chime in
Keeping the melody.
The frogs jump in
Adding the bass.
Music – a universal language
Between creatures and humans alike.
Something so harmonious
About a concert late at night.
Egyptian Cotton
Sun is shining into the room through the sheer curtains
Telling her to rise & shine, but it’s not time.
She turns over, squeezing her eyes tight.
The sun is hitting her skin just right –
She’s glowing.
Her hair,
The color of fresh coffee,
Is messy, draped around her face.
Her arms wrapped in silk,
Egyptian cotton,
Gently hugging her body.
She mirrors a goddess –
Hypnos, The Tired Beauty.
A breeze rolls in through the open window –
Her toes curl as she wraps herself tighter in the golden sheets.
You kiss her forehead, gazing at the face of the woman you call yours.
So peaceful.
She feels like home.
When she’s beside you, she radiates love
Even in her sleep.
The sun is shining into the room through the sheer curtains
Telling you to rise & shine, but it’s not time.
She turns over and squeezes you tight.
“Few more minutes”, she whispers, “before we start our day”,
“But my day has already begun”, you say, “in the most beautiful way.”
