I was walking in the woods, introspecting about what it meant for me to be a writer… All of the sudden this poem came to me. It happened pretty much all at once, and so I stopped walking, picked up my pen and the book I was reading at the time, and I let the lines write themselves in front of my eyes from the bottom of my heart. Writing poetry and fiction is a rather new thing to me and so I was quite amazed to see what my heart had to say about what it means for me to write. The Writer In Me by Isabelle Andres The writer in me tends to be solitary: Armed with her rucksack bag, Her pens and her note pads, She embarks on her own adventures Never too sure of what she will find, She wanders around the globe, Seeking new emotions, new worlds Seeking the new in all its allure. The writer in me tends to be solitary: For she travels the spaces of her mind, Attuned to the rhythms of her heart, Listening to the calling of her soul, Guided by th...
Women's Spiritual Poetry