advice to the weary

when air grows heavy and tired
from too long falling,

day’s last birds will dive down
and in rising, shake it out before them

something, at least, is vibrant
is the message beaten out by wings

when you are lost, find stone that will
hold sun with radiant stubbornness

and if you lose your voice,
seek out wide swathes of grass –

for it’s grass that sings when
all other songs have gone

© Sarah Whiteley

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let me be small

if, every now and again,
I must be smaller than myself –
then let me be small

let me curl into gray
unknowing stone, or disperse
downward as rain on windows

but let me be small
in the way of violets,
which at their core

are no less expansive
than the most colossal
of radiant skies

© Sarah Whiteley

Back!

Well I survived the deadlines (big sigh of relief)… albeit with a greater understanding of just why they are called deadlines. But here I am, back again. And even if I am a bit ruffled around the edges, I am so excited and ready to delve into the 6+ weeks’ worth of reading I missed! And of course, the brain is abuzz with ideas of my own that are just vying to spill out onto paper at some point soon. Meanwhile, I’ll be making the rounds of my favorites and playing catch-up. Cheers!

Sarah