All of these words reveal what is wordless.
On this Winter Solstice Eve, Which me should I go dark to see? My past me’s pain and hopes and dreams? Tomorrow’s me who’s light yet beams? Warmed by my cedar smudge stick’s blaze I’ll set my sights on me and gaze. Past me now thank those chapters dark For growth through sorrow, truths cold… Continue reading Winter Solstice
The Sun kept finding me Even though I kept moving away from her. So I stopped and fell back To give my skin extra time in Darkness. And Darkness was happy to oblige. She slowly extended her long, soft arms toward me. In her hands was a blanket made of winter wool. Scratchy and warm.… Continue reading Falling Back
I have a post-it tacked to the vision board in my office that stares me in the face every day. “Life is suffering…and yet…” I came across this idea - rooted in Buddhism - a few years ago and it’s become one of my most sacred mantras. Suffering, pain, trauma. It’s inescapable and universal. My… Continue reading The Quarantine Poems
Libby Lane Creative 