Tag: poetry
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Winters Presence
“Frosted Elegy” The forest hums with the language of light,where winter etches its story on every branch.Each twig, a quiet rebellionagainst the weight of time,against the ache of endings. The sun leans in, tender and golden,warming what the frost holds sacred.The air is alive with whispers,a hymn to stillness,a song for the wanderer who dares…
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When the Sky Cries Fire
(A Spoken Word Piece Inspired by Recent Events in California) . The ground split beneath us, a fissure not of earth, but of soul – a trembling truth that screamed, “Everything breaks if held too tight.” California, you stood bold against oceans and begged the mountains to hold your back. But the earth is restless…
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Just a Few Days Before a Fresh Beginning
The earth hums beneath the stillness, its rhythm felt in the breath of the wind, the soft exhale of branches weighed with frost. This is the pause—the holy interlude— where endings and beginnings collide. A lone bird calls across the void of twilight, its song a question and an answer all at once. What has…
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From the Depths Within
Dear Wanderer, To live from the marrow, to reach where the soul meets the divine, to draw forth the fire that God planted, and let it burn—not for the world to see, but to feel. To feel it in the quiet rhythm of your breath, in the weight of your steps on this holy, uneven…
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The Most Beautiful Thought
Song by Forest Blakk I absolutely love this! 💕 Lyrics The most beautiful thoughtIs the fact that I, I have always loved youEven before I knew what those words meantI knew that I loved you and that I was loved by youWithout knowing your name, where you were fromOr whether you were happy or perhaps…
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The Longest Night
Dear Wanderer, The night, four days before Christmas, stretches wide, a deep breath held by the earth. The stars, quiet witnesses, blink like forgotten candles in a world too hurried to notice. The wind carries a chill that settles in the bones, yet it is not unkind— it reminds us to feel, to be present…
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Nature’s Poetry
Dear Wanderer, There is a poem woven into every leaf, a hymn in the hum of bees and the quiet rustle of grasses bending beneath the weight of the wind. . Each stone speaks of ages beyond counting, holding the memory of rivers that once sang across its surface, whispering stories of a Creator who…
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Winter Beneath the Hawthorn
Dear Wanderer, The Green Hawthorn holds its vigil, its branches a quiet offering to the winter sky, still adorned with a scattering of crimson berries— the last gifts of the year. They shine like tiny flames against the muted tapestry of Tennessee’s December. . The land is bare, yet alive, the air brisk with a…
