And what is perfect? But a man-made concept, when it's the skies that dictate me.

Does no one else want to listen to the trees? The stories they tell and the secrets they hold? The wisdom of magic is firmly rooted, while their guidance is from the stars. What do they know that I don’t? They live in truth without the burden of tomorrow, yet show their leaves when storms […]

Listening to Trees

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A wayfarer’s nudge is incessant.Every need is soothed by a path that is mostly unknown.The road is their sanctuary, unneeding of answers.Perhaps proverbial, there is a calling they must meet.With feet as their guide, they set on the trail to bite into the adventure.Is a destination necessary when action is made, to answer innate freedom?The […]

Wayfarer’s Nudge

Can you enjoy the passing of time?That is to say, the result of it? Often laid out, is the idea that only fresh and new is desirable when age is understood as tired. Can you enjoy the passing of time? Let it be your current age, your newfound wrinkles, or those greeted gray hairs. Perhaps […]

To Love the Passing of Time

Yesterday we had one of those perfect snowfalls. It fell like feathers and stacked tightly upon itself. The bare branches held their white glow overnight and into today. Although the clouds have passed into memory, the wind has now come along to knock off resting dust, giving us miniature snowfalls against the blue January sky. […]

A Winter’s Journal Entry

Why does the eath turnAnd bees sting?Why do the seas sighAnd humans sing? There is no reason in perfectionor imperfection in its reason. We come and goAmongst the tidesAs stories toldWe are what lies.

Reasoning//

I’ve been published in two co-authored books, I’ve written hundreds and hundreds of freelance copy, content, blogs (you name it)! And in the background, there I was, just introspectively jotting down things that made me smile. Things that flowed through my hands. Things I didn’t have to think about. Just for me. I wrote for […]

Kiki Carr: Debut Poetry Book

Sometimes,For writer’s sakeI am not what I mean.When you awakeAnd I am meWill you and I forsake?

Writer’s Sake//

I speak in riddlesFor folklore’s taleOf riches beyondOur human scaleBut what we knowIs just a dropAs I swim in its pale.

Conscious Swimming//