Survivors witness and feel beneath the story... Fragmented, often locked away in an unconscious vault; we banish pain in order to survive it.
Many lost soul-pieces await restlessly to be acknowledged...just as the ruins of wrecked ships from long ago are waiting for the next storm to uncover them.
If I were to die young, I’m convinced that I would have lived a full life, just like the extraordinary woman this article honors.
I find that as I enter the hibernation period, I often stock up on words. Words that reflect the little light that is left as the twilight of the year arrives. Verses that remind me there is delight in dormancy and breadth in darkness.