Where the Wind Listens

Poetry

  • I Planted Wildflowers

    I Planted Wildflowers

    I planted wildflowers today, not with joy, but with sorrow heavy in my heart. I let the tears fall—wanted them free, just as I had always dreamt of being. The rain came, the crow watched, and still, I planted. Someday, my heart too will bloom.

  • This Day, Unnamed

    This Day, Unnamed

    Today, I will not call you “Tuesday.” I will not dress you in yesterday’s name. I will meet you with open palms, as if you are a bird newly landed, a river just beginning to flow. I will let gratitude be the breath that wakes me, and attention the prayer I offer in return. May…

  • A Morning Offering

    A Morning Offering

    A Morning Offering Would you think me strange if I told you that most mornings, before I even turn into the parking lot, my heart is already overflowing? That I’ve already gathered a hundred small moments that feel like offerings, not spoken, but somehow heard. The crow, running through the morning grass on his way…

  • Could I Have Ever Come to This Me?

    Could I Have Ever Come to This Me?

    Could I have ever come to this me without all I’ve been through? The ache, the surrender, the nights I thought might break me… they didn’t. They carved something open instead. Not wide. Not dramatic. But soft. A gentle blooming I didn’t even notice at first. Like how the sky shifts just before dawn, quietly,…

  • Doorway

    Doorway

    Doorway She lies in the doorway as I get ready, not blocking, not beckoning, just being. A soft, golden hush between one world and the next, fur like warm light, breath like lullabies. She doesn’t ask for attention. She is simply the presence of love. The quiet grace of being near, not to be noticed,…

  • I am here

    I am here

    I am only a whisper on the breeze A softly falling snowflake in a sea of white A dancing leaf from atop a majestic oak tree A single drop in the stormy sea of Life Unseen Unheard A brief spark in the night And yet I am here. I am here.