The river at night: connecting a twitter stream of consciousness

It takes quiet outside to find the quiet inside, so she went to the river with her words.

She collected words like puzzle pieces to snap together into poems on cloudy days. Words that are both a bridge and a veil.

Every poet carries music inside. They write their rhythms to it and watch the words dance.

The cold air betrays the clear blue sky. Nature is a trickster in Autumn.

The trees gently sway with the wind in the warm sunlight. She was just another wallflower watching the dance.

Nature moved her thoughts from inner intangibles to outer tangibles, from stream of consciousness to stream of connectedness.

We have an animal inside us, she thought. We are animals. The animal lives in nature.

A line in the sand can be washed away in time. Sometimes it needs to be re-drawn.

The Sun is always there. It just takes a clearing of clouds to see it.

There is a balance between one close sun that fills the sky with light and countless distant suns that fill the heart with wonder.

Nighttime stills the senses. We find ourselves like a present without the wrapping.

In exploring the stillness, she found herself.

Don’t let them have all of you, she said. Keep something for yourself. A dream. A feeling. A corner of the mind. Be a healing drop in the water of the world. Be a thing to behold. Be yours.

It’s not our shell that strengthens us, it’s our core.

It’s not so much what we endured, but what we survived.

(earlier versions of the above were on twitter)

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