#spilledink

A lot has happened in the past 3 months and reality dawned on me, you know what i’ll just let the poem speak for itself. Everyone this is Growth. Thank you.

Autumn calls, To the plaintive tune Of ancient music, Stepping quietly over forest ground Dropping leaves in a haze of gold Around her feet. I listen to her sing Songs Of death, Of rebirth, From a silent

It was a big day, today, with some surprising relational twists and turns. I may not know which way to jump today, but I do know one thing: in the end, the journey will have been beautiful! 💕 Mirrored

I think I re-opened “Pandora’s box,” so to speak. 😳 I decided on a whim back in August “oh, I’ll start writing poetry again because it will be good for my songwriting...” And it HAS, but..... Now I can’t

You are the God of the Harvest Just as You are The God of Rebirth And quiet beauty Follows Your steps Even when All is laid bare In the end of Days. This is one I missed posting yesterday. I love late

This is God’s country And still You sing us Home Like the seasons change. I run like a little child Your song beating Deeper Than blood in my veins Sing me Home, Father, And I’ll fall like wheat Into your

This is the one thing I’ll never miss or take for granted about living where I do. When I lived in the city for four years going to college, I yearned for the wild spaces, the sunrises, the sunsets, the

I swim upstream leaving behind my origins... Better waters await. It’s been an emotionally trying week for this songwriter-poet. Everything conspired to put me in a mental space of questioning. I’ve felt

I remember you When the sunflowers bloom. All I knew was A lady deserved flowers And yellow was your favorite. Once, I lived for your smile. Once, I wanted to see Your cracked-open heart Mended. (Poem

Hazy twilight scent Of smoke drifts with worries Next day, uncertain... (Poem & photo by Heather Stearns, 2018. Enjoy this? Toss some coin at the Bard: )

Perfect All cool 5:30 mornings Home-made bread and cup of tea Laughing after Little boy toes that couldn’t wait Ran outside in their skivvies To greet the summer light Get a jump on Front porch mornings

Little boy, Howl at the moon Tell them who you are: Forever one of His Always one of mine Joy that cannot Rest Cannot still For a second. (poem & photo by @heatherthebard, 2018)

I am green Tender, unfurling Stubbornly present, exposed to the Elements Even when the world Says I am not Should not Be. ~poem and photo by @heatherthebard, 2018

Nargis, you came to impregnate my lips but left incisions instead, you came like droopy frosted mornings, mingling with the dew, infusing your fragrance in the underserving air. There are days, Nargis,

As humans, we are still embraking on a journey, in search and want to know the presence of the divine soul ~ God. Taking a small example to cite from FIRE; it not only unites itself to what it burns, but

I am not the color of my nails, not even the color of my hair. I am not my weight, not even my five feet height. I am not what I wear, not even the way I leer. I am not my looks, not even how I cook. I

Ever since I was young, Sunny days would not please me,  Yet the shadows of the rain clouds Would make me feel at home.  Its the drizzle on the plane,  And the mild numbing pain, That has