SilentMetanoia - Hello Poetry

*How beautiful you bloom when you nurture your roots

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Mar 18, 2020

Mar 18, 2020 at 12:51 AM UTC

*How beautiful you bloom when you nurture your roots

When they ask you why you love the rain, the ocean, the river, tell them it is because unlike the people who should have loved you better, the water was never afraid to touch you; even when you were at your most damaged and broken.

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Jan 20, 2017

Jan 20, 2017 at 4:35 PM UTC

Water

When they ask you why you love the rain, the ocean, the river, tell them it is because unlike the people who should have loved you better, the water was never afraid to touch you; even when you were at your most damaged and broken.

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There is something beautiful and revitalizing about October. When the leaves fall the world is surrendering. Letting go of the pieces and parts that can no longer serve in a positive way. Trees hold strong to their core and survive the storms; but every good tree knows that as time goes by, the leaves will come back and we all get to start again.

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Oct 20, 2016

Oct 20, 2016 at 5:10 PM UTC

October

There is something beautiful and revitalizing about October. When the leaves fall the world is surrendering. Letting go of the pieces and parts that can no longer serve in a positive way. Trees hold strong to their core and survive the storms; but every good tree knows that as time goes by, the leaves will come back and we all get to start again.

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You have been told that you love too much, too many times and it should have taught you that the way people receive love is their problem not yours. It is not that you need to love in moderation. It is that they need to learn how to receive love more graciously.

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Oct 19, 2016

Oct 19, 2016 at 4:29 PM UTC

Your Intense Love

You have been told that you love too much, too many times and it should have taught you that the way people receive love is their problem not yours. It is not that you need to love in moderation. It is that they need to learn how to receive love more graciously.

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I will not be another flower, picked for my beauty and left to die. I will be wild, difficult to find, and impossible to forget.

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Oct 19, 2016

Oct 19, 2016 at 4:20 PM UTC

Another Flower

I will not be another flower, picked for my beauty and left to die. I will be wild, difficult to find, and impossible to forget.

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The people who consider you weak have not yet noticed the wolf hiding behind your eyes, nor the flames inside your soul. Let them think you are weak and do what wolves and fire do best. Surprise them when they least expect it.

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Aug 17, 2016

Aug 17, 2016 at 12:13 PM UTC

Wolf And Flame

The people who consider you weak have not yet noticed the wolf hiding behind your eyes, nor the flames inside your soul. Let them think you are weak and do what wolves and fire do best. Surprise them when they least expect it.

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She wears all black just like her soul yet her heart is made of gold.

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Aug 1, 2016

Aug 1, 2016 at 11:48 AM UTC

Gold

She wears all black just like her soul yet her heart is made of gold.

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Believe me, you're not the only one who's broken, because If you look close enough at all those around you, you'll only see remnants of scars and wounds from past experiences that make up quarters and halves where there had once been wholes.

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Aug 1, 2016

Aug 1, 2016 at 11:44 AM UTC

Believe me

Believe me, you're not the only one who's broken, because If you look close enough at all those around you, you'll only see remnants of scars and wounds from past experiences that make up quarters and halves where there had once been wholes.

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She's a supernova that trails stardust in her wake, a constellation of contradictions plucked from outer space. And all you can think to call her is "pretty".

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Jul 15, 2016

Jul 15, 2016 at 3:28 PM UTC

Pretty isn't a Pretty Word

She's a supernova that trails stardust in her wake, a constellation of contradictions plucked from outer space. And all you can think to call her is "pretty".

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You are not small You are not unworthy. You are not insignificant. The universe wove you from a constellation just so atom, every fibre in you comes from a different star. Together, you are bound by stardust altogether spectacularly created from the energy of the universe itself. And that, my darling, is the poetry of physics, the poetry of you.

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Jun 25, 2016

Jun 25, 2016 at 9:21 PM UTC

The Poetry Of You

You are not small You are not unworthy. You are not insignificant. The universe wove you from a constellation just so atom, every fibre in you comes from a different star. Together, you are bound by stardust altogether spectacularly created from the energy of the universe itself. And that, my darling, is the poetry of physics, the poetry of you.

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