Song Bird

There is a Nightingale hiding in your soul,
who wants to weave your Song
together with the Sun, the Moon, the Stars
and the turning Seasons.

Spring, Poetry, MaySpread StudioMay 15, 2025Comment

There is a Place

Find me
in the Greening Grass
amongst the Singing Willows
in the Blooming Fields
of Beauty

May, Home, Poetry, Refuge, SpringSpread StudioMay 6, 2025Comment

The End of the Road

When you have reached the End of a Road.

Be Tired.

Sit Down.

Feel the Wind.

Look at the Sky.

Close your Eyes.

The Path, March, Love Notes, PoetrySpread StudioMarch 17, 2025Comment

Wanderlust

Walk with the Women

Walk with the Star-gazers

Walk with the Soil-keepers

Walk with the Poets

Earth School, Poetry, Leadership, The PathSpread StudioMarch 9, 2025Comment

Autumns

are for

Second Winds

Autumn, Poetry, AirSpread StudioSeptember 18, 2024Comment

Blank Pages

In the Book of Life
there are Chapters

Summer, July, PoetrySpread StudioJune 30, 2024Comment

The Pause

She had walked unusually long,
taken unusually many steps.
Her feet were unusually tired
and her heart was unusually weary.

But there,
in the middle of the pause,

Winter, The Path, January, PoetrySpread StudioJanuary 31, 2022Comment

Go Further!

8 Women in a row. 7 women behind me. Behind me, my mother. And behind her, her mum. Behind every daughter is a mum. Until the mother of all mothers. Mother earth.

Faith Keeping, Leadership, PoetrySpread StudioMarch 25, 2020Comment

There is a Nightingale hiding in your soul,
who wants to weave your Song
together with the Sun, the Moon, the Stars
and the turning Seasons.

Find me
in the Greening Grass
amongst the Singing Willows
in the Blooming Fields
of Beauty

When you have reached the End of a Road.

Be Tired.

Sit Down.

Feel the Wind.

Look at the Sky.

Close your Eyes.

Walk with the Women

Walk with the Star-gazers

Walk with the Soil-keepers

Walk with the Poets

Autumns

are for

Second Winds

She had walked unusually long,
taken unusually many steps.
Her feet were unusually tired
and her heart was unusually weary.

But there,
in the middle of the pause,

8 Women in a row. 7 women behind me. Behind me, my mother. And behind her, her mum. Behind every daughter is a mum. Until the mother of all mothers. Mother earth.

Contact

Instagram

There is a Nightingale hiding in your soul, who wants to weave your Song together with the Sun, the Moon, the Starsand the turning Seasons.

Find mein the Greening Grassamongst the Singing Willowsin the Blooming Fieldsof Beauty

When you have reached the End of a Road.

Be Tired.

Sit Down.

Feel the Wind.

Look at the Sky.

Close your Eyes.

Walk with the Women Walk with the Star-gazers Walk with the Soil-keepers Walk with the Poets

Autumns

are for

Second Winds

She had walked unusually long, taken unusually many steps. Her feet were unusually tiredand her heart was unusually weary.

But there,in the middle of the pause,

8 Women in a row. 7 women behind me. Behind me, my mother. And behind her, her mum. Behind every daughter is a mum. Until the mother of all mothers. Mother earth.

There is a Nightingale hiding in your soul,
who wants to weave your Song
together with the Sun, the Moon, the Stars
and the turning Seasons.

Find me
in the Greening Grass
amongst the Singing Willows
in the Blooming Fields
of Beauty

Walk with the Women

Walk with the Star-gazers

Walk with the Soil-keepers

Walk with the Poets

She had walked unusually long,
taken unusually many steps.
Her feet were unusually tired
and her heart was unusually weary.

But there,
in the middle of the pause,