Naked Truth.
...
Mother. {poetry}
At times I saw you as a lamb, timid and frail,
But now I see that you are a wolf in the night, A hawk in flight,
A woman warrior with invisible scars;
Scars that tell a story -- a story of love, loss and life.
Finding a partner — the visible 1% that does not matter.
In love, it is better if we don’t wait for signs and perfect moments. The person you are so desperately waiting for dwells within you. As we know by now, we always attract our mirror, the one who reflects back to us how far we have come on the road to happily ever after with ourselves.
Suicide by Chicken Liver: Why I Chose to be a Poet.
{Photo via Tumblr} I can’t remember not loathing numbers. For instance, one of my earliest memories is of sitting at a desk in a classroom, near tears as I stared at my workbook, utterly baffled as to how many nickels equaled one dime. Who cared? Nor did I see the need to spend even one second ...
Warrior Rising.
“Whenever a warrior decides to do something, he must take responsibility for what he does. No matter what he does, he must know first why he is doing it, and then he must proceed with his actions without having doubts or remorse about them.” ~ Carlos Castaneda The forging of a sword is violent. ...
Mystical Menstrual Wisdom.
Hope and optimism can no longer be restrained. They gallop, unbridled and graceful, into the endlessness within us, bolstering us to prepare for change and surrender joyfully to the flow of it.
She Flies — She Believes In Everyone She Meets. {poetry}
18 years old, big city dreams, a head full of plans and a heart open wide,
she jumps from the branch, only to discover she’s always had wings,
she flies, and she flies, and she flies.