We all have stories, these are mine. I tell them with a heart full of love and through eyes of kindness.

Winter's Tongue

Winter touches us in ways that hands never could.

Wolfinwool · Winter's Tongue

Oh, glory be,
my quick-silver, coffee-kissed one.

May the wild pulse of nature
hold you upright
against the leaning weight of the home world—
Remind you how alive your body is.

As winter’s tongue traces your skin,
trailing prickled flesh,
let its breath reveal hidden truth—
that life is a trembling spark,
a moment of heat,
a brief astonishment
melting in the palm
faster than we can grasp.

So gather your moments.
Let Geneva’s hush and stone and snowfall
re-enchant you,
re-make you,
undo you a little as it
fills you with that hungry awe
you carry in your breast.

It will wash through
and out of you
swirling and twisting in glorious
celebration of your existence.

And when you walk the ancient streets,
newly veiled with unsullied snow—
slow yourself.
Let the air press close.
Let the silence learn
the shape of you.

Listen.

Let the wind speak in magnetic sighs
and slow exhales of revelation.
Feel its inevitable pull toward
ecstasy.

Wonder at the path cut in the pure white
and marvel that it is yours:

Wysteria—

lover of ink and cadenced breath,
synesthetic daughter of song,
ember-hearted pilgrim,
friend of the God
who threads worth through the world
like light through needles of fir.

How many hours,
how many small mercies and thresholds,
have brought you to this weary, glorious morning?

Turn—
and see how the path ahead
is still unbroken snow,
unscripted,
waiting for the architecture
of your next footfall.

See how possibility follows you
like a quiet animal,——
who knows your scent,
faithful and unseen.

Say a prayer,
for the God of all comfort
walks beside you,
reading the radiance you keep hidden.

And know this:

You carry in your bosom
the seedlight of nations—
future souls who will one day
call you mother,
and bless you for teaching them
how to love the Creator
as you do:
steadily,
brightly,
with an unquenchable flame.

#confession #essay #story # journal #poetry #wyst #poetry #100daystooffset #writing #story #osxs #geneva #travel


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Thank you for coming here and walking through the garden of my mind. No day is as brilliant in its moment as it is gilded in memory. Embrace your experience and relish gorgeous recollection.

Into every life a little light will shine. Thank you for being my luminance in whatever capacity you may. Shine on, you brilliant souls!

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