poet and storyteller
you can say no, when it comes knocking —the world, wearing its damp, grey coat. ugly in places. scowling like a thing that eats loveliness and hope, beauty too. take your feet, your spine and cover your eyes, your heart—do not look. not yet. down the stairs—see the dead spider, the broken crane flies—legs like... Continue Reading →
i light two candles, place them on the windowsill in my kitchen, next to the begonia blooming orange it doesn’t know there is chaosout there, somewhere. everywhere. all day, but especially the night when day has drawnher blackout blind and i am suddenlywithout crumbs in the forest, they burn, reflecting all my facesback at me.... Continue Reading →
have you ever eatensweet potato baked in its own skin, taken straight from the ovenstill warm. rough on your mouthat first, but then, sweet soft flesh,opening orangeon your starved tongue no forkno knifeor plate, not dressed up as anythingit is not. hands taking what they want, this gift. — have you ever? © Liezel Graham... Continue Reading →
did somebody smile todayjust because of you? what holy work you have done! — seeds © Liezel Graham 2020. Image by Annie Spratt.{Source Unsplash} if you made someone smile today, you have planted a little bit of holiness in someone’s heart. liezel
did you also tell yourselfthat you have to saveeveryone just to feel the weight of their ‘i love you’ on your skin? …and did they also tell you, when your eyes were stilldew soft with memoriesof where you were made, and put together in the secret places, that their happiness was all tiedup inside of... Continue Reading →
you are not enoughto feed five thousand. even three has been too much,despite what others see. have you felt a failurebecause of this? even God had to row to the other side of the seato escape. and rest. — you are allowed to put your life down and rest. © Liezel Graham 2020. Photograph by... Continue Reading →
so, your heart is broken and pain has leached the sunlight from your bones. what will you do with this gift? — you can make anything from ashes. even beauty. © Liezel Graham 2018. Photography by Annie Spratt. Yesterday, I shared this poem with a friend whose heart needed a bit of hope, that even... Continue Reading →
I am watching my son, eleven-and-a-bit years, eat his lunch. He has the same meal every day—oven chips, carrot and chicken. He takes comfort in the familiar—needs it, like he needs oxygen. He is using both a fork and a knife. More than that—he is using ordinary cutlery. He no longer needs specially shaped knives,... Continue Reading →
