will you for this moment taste the sweetness of your tea as it fills your mouth and in the warmth not borrow anything from tomorrow, or even the rest of your life not even joy will you receive the firm lip of the cup as it curves—allow your soft mouth to fully know this moment... Continue Reading →
i have always been good at getting lost. the God that I was given never liked this—this knack for running away, this rebellion of falling in love with things that are hidden. i was made this way—shaped in my mother’s womb so softly, with great care. a bent for finding myself in places others do... Continue Reading →
I have an old car that can be quite temperamental. So much so that she has spent most of the last three weeks in various states of repair, resulting in my wings being clipped. She is now repaired—thank goodness for professionals who understand cars—and so today I disappeared into the forest at Craigallian for a... Continue Reading →
it was enough this morning that there were fresh apricots on the kitchen table a bowl of soft-skinned light juice running down my chin as i ate, but then i turned around to hear my name walking hand-in-hand with the word love my hands now so full of the goodness, this gift that the fragrance... Continue Reading →
whilst my heart belongs to the sycamore tree, there is just something about the silvery scars of the silver birch that captures my heart. add moss and i am thoroughly captured.
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 →