Photo by Samuel Yongbo Kwon on Unsplash

Tenuous thread moving through the eye of the needle meant for me. For the hole in my blue jeans, a small spot not as strong, more compressed, feeling the pressure so much more than the rest of her sisters, those fibers and threads woven tightly together til the weight was…

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Free verse

Copyright © 2021 Ellie Brooke

Stillness, sigh.
Oh that my longing could be
contained in a word.
Would the word be too heavy to hold?

Maybe by I…but by We?

My singular strength being weak,
sometimes completely deplete-ted,
So would your You
be enough
for me too?

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Free verse

Copyright © 2020 Ellie Brooke

The sun, it calms
my heart
and soothes my tender mind,
as I sit and soak
the rays into
my skin.
Like a plant, I’m addicted,
convicted by,
and bound
to the photosynthesis,
all the premises
of my life bent
on one job:
Converting light energy
carefully
to chemical energy,
like mitochondria
but with the sun.

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Free verse

image created by author

Air fills lungs, as breath comes deep.
Sweet oxygen for a moment replacing my need for sleep.
Loud minds, louder than a thousand out-loud voices
condemning my choices in the day-to-day.

Stop!

Stillness…sigh…

I feel. Hear nothing.

This is what Earth feels like: cool and wet,
letting my back sink into it, my hair unkempt.
Sloppy kiss of affirmation,
that all my fears and consternation matter not.

This is what Sun feels like: warm and wise,
placing a kiss on my tired eyes. ‘Be still’, she says…
just like her Maker.
A Giver, not a Taker.
Warm love, exposing light.

Here I lie.

On the Earth and in the Sun.

Still. Silent. Sigh.

Listening.

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Ellie Brooke

Ellie Brooke

Poetry inspired by nature and the inner-wrestling. Prose in pursuit of living well. Learning how to ‘be’. Find me at: wilderword.com