Hi friends, A poem for Spring and for our shared connection. We are way more connected than we know we are. Go say something kind to a stranger today. Buy them a cup of coffee. Share a warm smile. That will make someone’s day. Love, Xiaoyu I Am You All Along By Xiao-Yu Zheng This… Read More: I Am You All Along »
Hi friends, How have you been? What’s your current growing edge? Something that you are working on? Do you want to share with me? I’d love to know. For me, I am working on paying attention to what matters to me and letting go of the rest. It is quite difficult to settle down to… Read More: Poem – Crossroad Being »
11/02/2021 Please Please Protect. Dance. Hug. Use your voice. Trust your gut. Ask questions. Lose your balance. Apologize. Hold hands. Close your eyes. Lay on the grass. Listen to your breaths. Please. Please. Please. Let life amaze. 11/03/2021 A Hospital Visit I zipped my tired body into your baggy sweats. They are taking my blood… Read More: Poems from November (Part I) »
Dear Young girls, I have the responsibility to tell you a few things that I wish I knew when I was your age. Alas, I might not have listened to such unwelcoming truth when I was your age. But I have faith some of you are wiser and smarter than I was. Life will rarely… Read More: To Young Girls »
I have a piece of writing about progress. I can’t get it together. The words fumble. They sound like dressed up suits forcing out poetry – Only farts. Write, rewrite, on and on. The thread of the piece is one out-of-control Animal. A leg here, an ear there, a monster looking thing. And the heart… Read More: Progress »
God so loved his creation, he took Adam’s rib and made Eve. She carried Adam’s open wound And born nations of sin. Plus One blameless king. Is that all? Hush. Don’t let pride take over her heart. Quick. Teach her a proper song of shame. She was born, not a he. What a shame! Better.… Read More: She is Born »
She slid the match across the coarse surface. With one swift gesture, she hoped to heal the open wounds from inside out. She’s determined to burn the vines connecting her to a mountain of shame. A mountain belongs not to her. She was born, not a he. What a shame! She diligently threw the lies… Read More: Mountain Bluebird »