Our sacred stories tell us the truths we believe about ourselves, the ones that feel like freedom and lightness of heart. They are the ones we miss when we have lost touch with them.
A poem about the ongoing pain of dysphoria.
A poem to the mother of all living.
A poem of passion for the sea.
A poem inspired by the power of fragile beauty.
Of all directions, North is youngest; of all lands was North raised last: pole-clinging, mountain-bracing, glacier-bearing, winter-blasting, storm-wielding, darkness lair. Of all lands was North the best.