Photo by Natalya Therese. Featured on Instagram by @writers_community._

Staring down a blank page at midnight

I’m a writer I write, right?

So, write, wordsmith. Write.

Write like life depends on it,

’til right is wrong and wrong right.

Like the only way to right is still to write.

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Photo by eberhard grossgasteiger (Pexels)

Gentle footsteps

heel-toe grass

leaving room for grasshopper escape.

Patch of sand

both feet wide

offered between the dandelions.

Nothin but air and light and the towering mountain.

Slows to a heartbeat.

Sun, bathing the world anew.

Velvet silence split by the hum of feathered wings

path of bird

cutting the meadow in two.

Retaking its perch on the sky-bound trees,

tracing its path across sky and land

to come home to itself once again.

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Uptown Neighborhood, Denver CO. Photo by Natalya Therese

Crunching over broken glass

the joker, ripped, winks up at me

from the sidewalk.

A plastic bottle rolls by

yellow liquid sloshes inside — apple juice? Or not.

The wind whips dirt into my face.

I squeeze my eyes shut

and when I open them —

daffodils!

Yellow petals peeking out over red brick walls,

smiling at the grit of the world.

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Photo by Anna Shvets (Pexels)

My love, a seedling straining toward the light,

fragile and frightened and bold all the same.

Greedily drinking the nourishment of the rain as it falls,

shrinking from the cold winds that blow.

Steady as it grows,

bit by bit,

from roots that have latched deep within.

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Photo credit Natalya Therese, Minca Colombia

It feels as though

for a day now

I’ve fought to hold back tears.

I’ve told myself there’s nothing

to cry over

and, in fact, I would be diminishing

and disrespecting

the joy I’ve found,

the health I’m granted,

if I were to loose the torrent within.

And finally, now,

as I walk among the trees,

feet guided by the snow,

eyes set toward the softening sun

and life’s fresh new air bathing my lungs,

tears spring forth

from my eyes,

warm and soothing,

joyous and light,

full of grief and love and beauty.

My tears a life force,

speaking truth from the heart:

“I feel free”.

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His rocking stride

cantering over the rocks and sticks,

leaning slightly

into the wind.

Aware of each small movement

my child’s body made.

He was a horse made

to care.

He had no mean bone in his body,

nothing that caused him

to jump or scare.

He doted on me,

he was willing to stand for hours

and wait

while I groomed him

or fed him

or taught other little ones how to care.

His eyes were the kindest I’ve ever known,

his nose the softest,

his body the sturdiest.

And in his stride, I found freedom.

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Photo credit Natalya Therese, Goat Rock Beach CA

Blessed are we when touched by the sun.

Its warming rays lighting

a glow inside us,

reflecting all that is good

and powerful

and healing.

For only mere moments pass

before we are once again beset

by wind and snow,

shadows falling and creeping

in

from all sides.

If we could only learn to pause

and give thanks

as each moment passes,

we could live our lives

in present contentment

knowing

that we are eternally blessed.

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Photo credit Natalya Therese, Minca Colombia

If I knew better, I’d stop.

I’d run, hide, quit, find

any excuse

to just bury myself

in the ground

until I could resurface

and grasp for air that I know to be pure

and true.

But I don’t know better.

Or maybe I don’t want to try.

I don’t care to learn those lessons

that I was trying

to beat into myself.

Now, what I want, may not be clear.

But the very desire to stop and undo the lessons that are

unfolding

without my direct control

is what I must resist.

If I knew better, I’d stay.

Respect this moment.

Listen to that call,

the siren’s son

that, at the same time,

draws me home

and into the great, churning sea beyond.

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Photo credit Natalya Therese, Jardin Colombia

Sheets pillow and part and shape

around our mostly prone shapes.

We don’t act or truly move

but our body’s shapes indent the thick covers.

Our breathing evens,

slackens,

deepens,

and eventually matches.

Our bodies shape into one.

Safest as two.

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Natalya Therese

Natalya Therese

Crafting words that cradle experience; honoring the light that exists in all beings, connecting us throughout the universe.