They mistake my softness for weakness,  
Like petals scattered in storms of hurt;  
Not seeing how deep my roots extend  
Through layers of wisdom and lessons learned.  

Each kind word I choose to speak  
Is backed by mountains moved in silence;  
Each tender touch I dare to give  
Springs from battles fought with resilience.  

I've learned that armour weighs down the spirit,
Thorns can wound the hand holding the stem;
While my quiet strength flows like morning light,  
Warming others without consuming them.  

So let them wonder at my gentleness,  
Let them question my peaceful stance;  
Because I have found that mighty rivers  
Flow with grace and not arrogance.  

In a world of sharpened daggers,  
I choose to be the sheltering tree,  
Not because I cannot withstand the storm,  
But because I’ve learned to just simply be.  

My strength lies in understanding  
That my heart does not need to prove,
The power that sustains its caring beat  
And the quiet force that dares to love.  

©️Lizzie Bevis

Water under the bridge and me
How knowledge turn banal missing verbs and dots from wisdom called absurd like time because of watches late when neither knows the right answer to be, i dont know. instead of eating poison just because starving, to throw a coin out of reach, like promise without words to keep like words without truth pointless like the journey without destination, youth without home, without roots not tree but a platation nor a name to keep to keep to care for, but a spring and summer, like the finger that pointed handed saying blessed and holy for hundred folds is told god to repay what isnt and should must. The careless ones that care too much to act or advice. Like the ones knowing the most speaking the least. First one can teach to cry one must learn, like to worry for a concern, bad for good. Like an excuse instead of an answear   of all the questions due, and then i hear: anythings better than hemlock, sounds to me like crosses seem some left behind in gones unwilling or unable or foolish, but not foolish to as love but more to hate as intentionless so godful one, as godles the other. Not as hope that doesnt believe but faith that doesnt hope, like the scars and the wounds like lions and pride like storm rains time that comes in soon is the time that went after time from time to went to come to you and me and you and me to come to care for, careless and carefull like about the rainbow we used to, once talked in thunders and birds screams and the field roads of passway  rocks fallin in mountains under the beatin of hooves of fate free and reason and language and time of salvation a dream we dream about and inviolet heaven a bedlike welcome awaitin all them men of all them boys whose love loves better than mens more than a son a father and father son to home how we greet is what gives that name to that house of great our fathers and our fathers god we too dare to bother to seek  our pay with a dream to awake from once our stomach fed not starving for morrows to die in but days to live close and as humble as honest the heart of the heart we call soul gave a think and roads enough to name one a wanderer indeed wandered and wishesh wished at star fall and prayers whispered to the safe of his palms for fools call foolish every time and for gods call theirs unlike men once therefore always like the said spoken a beggar begs the landlord a meal we beg your charity to grant us you already granted like the landlord the spring and responsibility to brother and duty in disguise every now and then with a new story to end and to sing about like a dove with broken wing, sheep without shepard and voice without sound and silence like god to stay unknown for all  to have to think of, like air like love we breath every breath a scent of instinct an inspiration to know better like heart beats beatless and unknowingly like all we forget but remember. Like all we pass be dying, and all we do and say to mind to dont matter yet to matter like to think to think twice, how many wrongs it takes for a right, as wars to battle to peace and roads to step to meet, tears to cry to see a brother and thorns to a king and kingdom and its dom to heaven get near of far already had come, did never leave nor left like the sun the day and yes a question to not  answer like today tommorow is and yesterday never was as long is cohen writin hallelujah like davinci paints mona lisa, still the beggar asking for a slice is the least, always.

Sometimes i think of water sometimes of the bridge. His wisdom is wise but not profound but ultimate, its emotion like music does to soul to embrace but not hold to kiss for but the cheek to know like love to never give yet never take, speak when spoken, to laugh and without a reason to have a reason many times for rivers to move alike free to run out or walk away just two of the poorest choices of transport, as to get insulted or insult a choice to decide for controll being out of yet free to have a share in meal but not in the song, just as the worda have meaning so do they have reason, which he built his life its laws and gods and decided to be in controll and be free like to do and have done to perfect to complete, he understood we go in morning where we say before night, people are never as sick as they say nor is it ever as bad as it seems or good as one thinks when thinks right never as wrong as never wrong when thinks. Knows only thinks. Doesnt think knows. Before mind a word to speak to cross silence like time to call out to question its patience  to deeds to get done never heared say more than at times havin nothin to say what to pay a privilige to hope or death, door or key, nerves or lack of focus to blame hearts dont listen locked, and before the last dies, so does the week after the last day, so the hope we hoped in was everywhere around, while we called it death where we never been what we could have been drunk and travel with song and the boys a wicked a smile to cherish and band to one word instead like devajah, and with devajah life saved, eternity granted and by stars be shining and falling and devajah to blind to see, by making them look, lame to walk by forgiving the ways of sins and sinners for sake of love asked to part from evil.  

Sometimes i think to drown, sometimes to learn to swim, sometimes to set sail i think to have somewhere to sitq The idea of control is to not have it just as the hunger the strive of soul that searches with knowledge of only known to dont know and free will is only it takes to find it, therefore to find the path that turns to understanding and wells by green lakes with swan and benches and shores to turn inward full of kindness and waterwalls all as welcoming as the surface that echoes every leaf every drop and seed of poppy in one whirl of will at hand of might and on tip of my tongue the reason of able to sense the pain the cause of mistake a lesson in every mirror i see after suddenly like to recall a trivial of some of past and smile, how simple once we understand. Meaning i guess: sad is not sad, nor is happy, as long not perfectly happy with being sad. Nothing is boring except us, if so   so it is with shame just as blame you can a bag to command a man to carry, but guilt is only selfmade why air in that bag bigger than me, of world the half, of hell the cover and heaven everything else, im wearing. Control is not about doing what you want but to want to do what you are. Freedom means act accordingly and slavery to force and be forced. There is a great song: you gotta serve somebody. Like hour to minute, minutes to hour, steps to footprint on the road where you want to be or want to go. Freedom is not in control but control in freedom. Not fencing our loves but facing our fears. Water under the bridge and me thoughts of all the bridges and all the rivers and me's waitin there patiently the great waterendin...
                                  and i laugh.

Water under the bridge and me thinking there be something wrong with me beside the great waterendin.
                      ...and i laugh again.

Heaviness
In my heart and on my mind tonight.
Short solutions instead of
Revolutions
For far too long it seems.

Bitter, lonely, hatred, greed
In so much of humanity.
My Purpose for this life
Is to BE Love.
Tonight, I just weep.

We cannot keep simply masking
When the root of fear and pain
Needs dug out, yet runs deep.
It's not a simple task,
Nor will it be easy.

But with principles like
Mindfulness, Compassion, Vulnerability
We reach the root cause of all this hurt
And bring healing in it's purest form.

Connection is the true craving -
Face to face, heart to heart.
Going within to love all parts,
And then through Love
Extending out.

It can be done,
This dreamer's favorite words.
But I promise to keep healing my hurt,
So I can love you more.

Please agree, say you'll join me
Through kindness and authenticity.
So that a dreamer's words
Will fulfill Root Resolutions.
Hand in Hand,
Heart to Heart.

©KSS 3/2018

She was not accustomed to kindness,
those gentle hands that held her,
soft like the breath of an answered prayer,
her bruises mended by strangers' sighs.
The sky whispered fragments of blue,
trees bent their branches towards her,
as if to cradle what the world had broken.

But they—oh, they—
turned her spirit on itself,
herded her like cattle
through corridors of regret,
or like lost souls in purgatory,
each step echoing a hymn of betrayal.

You cannot silence the ghosts,
their voices thin,
like needles threading the night.
They call in relentless whispers,
turning her heart into a restless sea,
a place where sleep is an exile
and dreams are unwanted guests.

No one asked her what she wanted,
not in that world of smoke and shadow.
They left her, discarded like ash,
as if she had no fire to offer.
A river of blood, her silent anthem,
flowed beneath her solitary feet.

Until a stranger came,
wrapped in the cloak of autumn,
bearing a voice like broken violins,
each note carrying a promise of salvation.
His hands moved gently,
as if piecing together
a stained-glass window of shattered lives.

She was not accustomed to kindness,
but she let herself be held.
And somewhere between the sky and the trees,
she began to believe
that even the unwanted
are worthy of love.

Fools with hearts
Underestimate pain
Until they are met with
Inconceivable rain.

It's easy to chew on
Melancholy time
Until they are met with
Something more kind.

I open this door in front of me
it opens to the room I had when I was four maybe three
the walls are painted lilac and I count the beds in the room
one,
two,
three
for me and my two older sisters their names are Rachel and Brittany

I hear a giggle and look down
it's me as a little girl and oh my god that's right, my hair was a lighter shade of brown
she has on her princess sleeping gown and tells me "Here, follow me, I'll show you around, it's nighttime now or I'd ask mommy if we could go to the playground"

we're playing with her toys and she tells me "you look sorta familiar" I smile and ask her "do you think we look kinda similar?" I see her eyes moving and her brain searching her mind's perimeter she says "a little, can you tell me your name? I'm a good listener"
"I'm you from a time yet to come" I say sweetly just above a whisper, she climbs into my arms and on her forehead I kiss her

I tell her all the wonders she will see, who not to trust and all the amazing people she will meet, I tell her that some things never change; like how we still love to walk in our bare feet and how people still tell us "no one I've ever met before has been this sweet" I tell her there will be things you feel are left unsaid and incomplete and there will be times where you're biggest strength is to know when to retreat, and oh... you're going to fall deeply in love with a man, he's a musician and both his heart and drum play to their own beat, she sings with excitement "I cant wait to be older!! I've always wondered what kind of girl I'll be!!!" I look at her lovingly "you will grow into your power and strength- you are the rarest pearl from the sea- your life will be an amazing one, I love you and it's time for me to leave, but know I'm so proud of all the things you will achieve, your life will flourish sweet girl, you're in for such a treat"

A spider crosses my path,
its steps careful, calculated.
It pauses in my shadow,
uncertain whether to move forward or back.
We share this moment, the spider and I,
both caught in the web we did not choose,
each bound by the rules of our nature.

I do not crush it,
knowing there is no triumph in such an act.
But I understand, too,
that this same spider would show no kindness
to a fly ensnared in its silk.
And that is okay.
We all follow the scripts we are given,
finding our place in a world
that is neither cruel nor kind,
just indifferent.

We part ways, the spider and I,
it continuing its silent journey,
and I, mine.
In this fleeting intersection of our lives,
there is no victory or defeat,
only existence and its quiet persistence.

And as I watch it disappear into the grass,
the day carries on,
but the spider lingers in my thoughts,
a tiny presence that feels larger than it should.
It reminds me of the countless lives
we pass by each day, unnoticed,
each with their own silent battles,
each following the threads of fate
that weave us all into this tapestry.

I think about the webs we spin,
invisible to the eyes of others,
and how often we find ourselves
trapped in the strands of our own making.
How many times have I, too,
hesitated in someone’s shadow,
uncertain of the path ahead,
wondering if I should move forward
or retreat into the safety of the familiar?

And yet, like the spider,
we press on, driven by something
deeper than thought,
some primal urge to survive,
to persist despite the odds.
There is a strange beauty in this,
a quiet resilience that speaks
to the core of what it means to be alive.

Perhaps, in the end,
it is enough to simply exist,
to find our place in the world
not through grand gestures or triumphs,
but through the small mercies we offer,
even to those who cannot fathom them.
If I can shape the world,
if only for a moment,
into something resembling kindness,
then perhaps the indifference
is not as vast as it seems.

There is a delicate art in facing fear. In the quiet spaces of my mind, I have often grappled with those deep-seated anxieties; the ones that linger beyond the obvious, like my childhood fear of heights, spiders, or bees. But fear, I’ve come to understand, is not simply an instinctual response; it is an illusion that seeks to disrupt our natural course, distorting reality and filling it with false limitations.

As I reflect on my personal fears, like the fear of disappointing those I love, the fear of being alone, or even the inevitable reality of death, I realize that these emotions, though real, are often exaggerated by a part of me that clings to control. They take root in uncertainty, feeding on the unknown, and that’s where they derive their power. Yet, the key to overcoming these fears lies not in fighting them directly, but in acknowledging them and seeing them for what they are; illusions designed to keep me from my personal growth.

Fear of failure, of not living up to expectations, can be paralyzing. It has, at times, made me doubt my ability to be a good father or to navigate the complexities of relationships. But what I’ve learned is that fear does not define me. It may attempt to impose narratives about inadequacy or isolation, but these stories are not truths; they are interpretations. I do not have to live by them.

The first step is recognizing when fear begins to speak. In those moments, instead of letting it drive my actions, I can choose to stand firm in my understanding of self. Fear may try to whisper that I am alone, or that I might not be enough for those I hold dear, but I now realize that these whispers are merely echoes of past insecurities. They are not the voice of my reality.

To truly cast out fear, I must strip away its falsehoods, stand grounded in my values, and recognize my strength, not in spite of fear, but because I have faced it. By dismantling the illusion, I can step forward confidently, knowing that while fear may exist, it holds no dominion over my choices, my identity, or my future.

In this understanding, I reclaim a more profound sense of peace. Fear is simply a shadow. And while it may darken parts of my journey, it can never overcome the light of my inner strength unless I let it. The power lies within me to confront fear, not with force, but with clarity. And in that clarity, fear begins to dissolve.

—

In the darkness where fear resides,
A whisper calls, a truth confides.
Don’t flee the shadows, don’t turn away,
Embrace the fear, let it have its say.

In uncertainty’s grip, we often freeze,
Yet within that tightness lies the key to ease.
Open your heart, let the emotion of fear flow,
In vulnerability, true courage will grow.

Fear, a teacher with lessons so profound,
In the quiet depths, strength can be found.
Befriend the fear, dance with its might,
For when the moment passes;
we will see the light.

I was born into a world of fear,
Where I grew up to hide my tears.
No steady hands to guide my way,
Only scattered paths I learned to face.
In madness, I sought to comprehend
A life that shifted without end.

I grew too fast, too much to bear,
The weight of truths placed in my care.
Yet through the bruises, I made my stand,
A way to live beyond demand.

No longer tied to what was given,
I carved a path, my own, forgiven.
It wasn’t just to survive the fall,
But to rise and live beyond it all.

Kindness starts within,
where wounds are tender.
When you heal yourself,
you’ll understand others better.

Stay present in the moments
when pain calls your name.
Don’t flee, don’t fight; just stay.
In stillness, strength is quietly gained.

Let your heart remain open,
no matter how it feels.
In the practice of courage,
your spirit gently heals.

— Sincerely, Boris