Posted in life, Poetry, Self-discovery and growth


I spill forth my intentions,


mindful of the energy

my words move.

No matter where,

on crowded bus, in workspaces shared with others of brilliant mind,

In my own safe mental landscapes;

I am perpetually and almost obsessively aware

that even my quietest murmurings cause great stirs

in the cycles of

Universe and sky.

I speak my truths

to her honest mouth,

She replies with

fortune and with


And I pour this into

my soul’s own casks –

Into existence.

I am filled, I am…


And so it is,

And so what once was

it’s no more

than wisp and memory;

Ashes of past fire.

Tiny gifts, offerings to destiny,

are my intentions,


I manifest.


Curating Personal Year 9. Wife and mom of 3. Writer. Zentrovert. Aspiring Engineer. Resident Badass.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.