Who thought
this silence
could roar
where now
my own
whisper breaks
sending quiet
scattering like
pieces of
broken mirrors
each one
it’s own
reflection of
what it’s
looking at
Author: Harlan Didrickson
I first started writing this blog as a way to refocus my thinking after a debilitating mental breakdown in 2008. Having been educated in writing, I had hoped that my love for words would have left a trail for me to follow and, well, here we are.
Over
A shadow
a wisp
and remnant
one last
piece less
of something
else grand
a page
an ellips
a bulb
once bright
fading dark
from overuse
flickering flailing
like a
drowning man
or dream
Room
My room slowly
lightens like mood
receiving better news
trickling at first
and then sprinkle
and finally deluge
as sun breaks
like a child
holding back laughter
all at once
an engine starting
at full throttle
MyEnough (for sweet pea 🫛)
There is
you know
a point
a pinnacle
and place
tippy top
crows nest
from where
I see
my enough
everything I
need and
most of
what it
is that
I want
my happiness
and peace
prosperity harmony
and abundance
two lights
same energy
inside out
Flower
If you were
a flower you’d
be a bouquet
for only one
of you I
could not display