Let me be your wildflower
I felt it in my heart, one fine morning of spring, whilst I wished I was somewhere else, doing something important in some ways, I felt that perhaps I could let You in (…)
Nobody wants to talk about war
The wind was changing direction. It was my father who had taught me to do that: to read the mountain skies in summer. I still do it, out of habit, and sometimes people wonder why I suddenly stop and say nothing. I stare intensely at the sky (…)
I have so much left to cry
I have so much left to cry. Did it occur to you? That perhaps behind those many smiles lies a silence that won’t die. (…)
How strange
How strange to come back to a place where your roots grew but never set, where your soul lies but never rests. (…)
The sound of life
I’ve walked alone, far, and far down many roads. Until I found a place where I could long for silence. (…)