Scale.

I know

a woman

round and

lush and

nurturing,

who fought

a war

with her body.

Believing

that

by becoming

less,

she would

become

more.

Reducing who she was

meal

by

meal

until her soul was

hollow

and still

the numbers

did not equate

with peace.

— Scale.

© Liezel Graham 2018.

The places I cannot go, yet.

I am

a house of

many rooms.

Quiet, dusty corridors

sunlight

gently

dripping in

like liquid

gold.

How I love to drink my tea,

a lovely Assam,

malty on the tongue

and comforting,

as I walk through

these spaces

gently touching

things

I had

almost

forgotten.

But not

yet.

It is comforting

to find

old friends.

You,

and you,

and even

you.

We must stay in

touch,

I say

to the past.

But

some doors

are

locked.

In dark corners

where the

light

does not

quite

reach.

And try as I might

when I stand before them

trembling key in

hand

I cannot enter.

I cannot enter

though

I must.

There is

work

to be done

within,

but not

yet.

And so,

instead

I sit before them

quietly

weeping

ink

onto paper.

Until.

— The places I cannot go, yet.

© Liezel Graham 2018.

Solace.

Endings,

do not frighten me

anymore.

Every night

the sun

whispers

farewell

to the moon,

only to

rise again

with fresh

courage.

— Solace.

© Liezel Graham 2018.

On living brave.

The

work of

living

as water,

allowing it

to trickle

liquid

hope

from my

belly,

even

during

dry seasons.

This,

is a brave

life.

— On living brave.

© Liezel Graham 2018.

.

.

.

.

He who believes in Me [who adheres to, trusts in, and relies on Me], as the Scripture has said, ‘From his innermost being will flow continually rivers of living water.

‭‭John 7:38

Amplified.

How to drink Water.

You must look for its

scent

on the breeze.

Be careful not to get

distracted

by things that

masquerade

as

sustenance.

And when you find it.

Drink.

Hands cupped

for

more.

Soak it up

through your skin.

Let it flow over your exhaustion

like

relief,

and

Life.

— How to drink Water.

© Liezel Graham 2018.

On being Thomas.

God

within

and

still

I look

for

wounds

where

it

is

finished.

—On being Thomas.

© Liezel Graham 2018.