The practice of writing eases and opens, giving me a way to let go and look inside… …To see how I am feeling what I’m feeling, and maybe help me to just let it be. I think this piece, called “What Used To Be” speaks for itself. Such is my day: thinking of what used to be , noticing the old tapes that don’t play but sit there like friends I used to enjoy, in an odd way. My writing process is a meditation on being. The Muse guides my heart and my hands move. The connection I long for meets me halfway, and what I missed knowing lands like a blossom at my feet. And then I feel a little better and know there are many who have been here with me, in their own way. 'Take My Hand' digital art by Skatergirl What Used To Be Used to be I’d crawl into a hole. Used to be, I’d wish To die while I cried. Used to be I’d hear Voices echo worthlessness Through a worm’s belly, Words would tease Me into not caring. Becau...
Women's Spiritual Poetry