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I sat,
spliff lit like a tiny sun in my hand,
and looked up.

To the stars,
to the void,
to the hush that hums behind silence.

And I asked —

In all of this,
this chaos and order,
this pain and pulse…

Am I not all that?

Wasn’t I born of stars?
A flicker from the great ignition,
dressed in skin,
asking questions fire once whispered to stone?

I’m not watching the universe —
I’m remembering it.
Living it.
I am it.

And you —
you reading this —
you are too.
Written while ****** and staring at the stars — a reminder that we’re not in the universe, we are the universe remembering itself. Nothing more, nothing less. Vazago thoughts.
Meet me
where time forgot to move,
in the space between the ache
and the answer.
Ink
The emotions flowing from a nip on the paper.
Work as a connecting medium which carry profound meanings and contentment.
Sometimes flicker due to uncertainties.
Sometimes sheds due to overflow.
It is non toxic but can warp the things that can't be of no use.
Just a pigment which shows the real colours of life.
Is it the ink or the love?
On a nameless lake
north of Nipigon
I saw a creature

up in the crown
of a burnt-out jack pine
watching me wonder:

should I go on, into the opening
cleared by the fire, or return?
I stayed at the edge,

half in the open,
afraid of a windigo;
I must have turned back

and paddled in,
over spruce bogs,
across Black Sturgeon Lake;

I must have come in,
tell me you saw me
come in.
Some things will only find you when you're not seeking them.
They prefer to find you.
Like happiness, like joy.
These feelings cannot be kept or stored away like some sentimental keepsakes.
Instead, they can be appreciated and cherished in every moment that they choose to arrive.

-Rhia Clay
My mind is covered in scar tissue from too many years of pain, with wounds that keep reopening as the world shakes me and pulls at my hair.
Still, I look up and see beauty.
In the early morning, the light radiated with such brilliance that I felt certain I could glimpse heaven.
All I could do was absorb the moment and give thanks.
I’d endure 80 dark nights for a morning so bright.

-Rhia Clay
Joy
Our joy sneaks up on us like some gorgeous, wild, and untamed creature,
waiting in the shadows until we remember to invite it in.

-Rhia Clay
That moment when your strength gives out and God's strength begins.  
There are not enough words to describe that beauty.
There are not enough words to call it by name.
That moment when Jesus sits with you as you hold your pain in your hands,
and you give it to him,
because it's heavy.  
And you feel the love fill your heart so full you think surely your heart cannot contain it.
That's love.
That's the only name I can give it that feels right.

-Rhia Clay
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