Posted in Spiritual Poetry, Words of Wisdom

Gold Raven

stream

Atop my right shoulder, a gold raven perches. She tells me the weight on my shoulders will only be lifted when I see the gift in it. So I sit with it until we meld.

And before I know it, the weight lifts like steam and my ego melts.

In my letting go by becoming one with what hurts most, I become the stream and its coast.

Image result for gold raven

@Evy_Zen

Posted in Spiritual Poetry

Hiraeth

HIRAETH is a deep, inborn yearning for a home, a feeling, a place, or a person that is beyond this plane of existence.

Posted in Spiritual Poetry

Abodes


The soul self may not be as tangible as the physical self but it’s there. At least I’d like to think so. 🙂