the cicadas are growing quiet, wings worn and tattered from summer’s symphony, the melody that brings them life. and also death. a refrain pulsed through their dreams as they lay burrowed deep in sleep […]
I don’t breathe easily. But I do try. I sing. I sip tea. I listen to the birds and cicadas. I drink cool water and try to get enough sleep. I walk barefoot in […]
our raw edges are our beauty. our fragmented hearts are our strength. our being human is our glory.
this warped and weathered tree twisted by wind grey with time. it speaks more to my soul than many tongues of men.
I fasten my satchel under a cloak of ebony night, a swift wind rising around me, disturbing the dust under my feet. I will not rest this night. I will lie and wait for first light. No, for the promise […]
I look up into the tangled tendrils of the willow branches falling around me, their softness and sway on me the way hair falls around a face, on shoulders, and down a bare back. […]
You are beautiful. You belong. And you are always welcome here. The words came out so easily as I crafted a post welcoming visitors to Being Krista. There was even alliteration and a nice cadence. But […]
“The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.” – Robert Frost, “Stopping by Woods […]
It begins with a sigh. Or a song. A whisper. A laugh or a cry. A low cloud of dust at my heels as i tread the journey path. It begins in the ordinary-ness […]