she who saw the deep

Poems

Autumn

The leaves fall softly,
A whisper of time passing,
Golden silence drifts.

Night

Shadows stretch across,
Stars kindle in the still sky,
Dreams walk quietly.

Commonplace

“The limits of my language mean the limits of my world.” — Ludwig Wittgenstein
“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” — Mary Oliver