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Aware.
Tucked into the quiet corners of my yard and spilling along the back fence — where wild grass gives way to the shadowed woods and, beyond them, the familiar silhouette of my mountain — the azaleas have erupted this spring in an almost audible riot of pink, purple, and white. Two bushes a deeper rose…
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Stargazer
Somewhere in the slow, surgical unmaking of solitude, I lost track of almost everything I used to believe was real. Embracing spiritual surrender has redefined my identity. Through introspection and divine guidance, I’ve shed old patterns and evolved into a more authentic self.
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Home.
entry twenty three — scattered light, fractured grace: a quiet archive of light, loss, and what remains. The moon is a small, stubborn wound in the dark, haloed and patient. Branches reach like remembered names, skeletal and exact against the hush. The light slips through their fingers and leaves a trail of familiar ache. Not…
catacosmosis 