Tag: becoming
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Between Breaths, Where the Door Stays Ajar: The Sacred Pause Between What Was and What Waits
Between endings and beginnings lies a quiet sanctuary — a breath where time loosens its grip and the soul listens without urgency. In that sacred pause, we are neither who we were nor who we will become, but something tender, listening, and alive. This is where roots deepen unseen, where grief and hope sit side…
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The Folly of the Endless Mirror
We bend ourselves into reflections, hoping to be loved by every gaze. But the soul was never meant to shine in all directions. It was meant to root, to burn true, and to become whole by refusing the endless mirror. A contemplative poetic journey through selfhood, identity, and the quiet courage of choosing authenticity over…
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The Constellations That Raised Me
The biggest influences in my life did not arrive as declarations or doctrines, but as quiet forces—hands that steadied, silences that taught, books that widened the mind, and stars that placed my smallness into a gentler perspective. Shaped by people, pain, nature, and time itself, this poem traces an intimate inner journey that slowly opens…
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SHAPED BY STORMS: A meditation on becoming, breaking, surviving, softening, and shining
Beauty was never something I inherited; it was something I bled for, prayed for, fought through darkness for. Life did not hand me gentle beginnings— it carved me, chiseled me, taught me the language of survival before the language of love. And yet, somewhere between the breaking and the rebuilding, a new glow took shape—…
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The Geography of Lost #poetry
Lost is not a place on any map; it is the space between who we were and who we’re becoming—a liminal landscape where familiar landmarks dissolve and new ones haven’t yet formed. Here, in this geography of uncertainty, we confront questions with no easy answers and find courage in the unknown.
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Veins of the Unseen Leap: Volcanoes Don’t Ask Permission Before They Erupt #poetry
I didn’t leap. I dissolved. I bled into the moment where fear could no longer hold form, and the world, instead of answering, became a question back— louder, stranger, wider than any map could hold. What does risk look like when it isn’t an act but a becoming? A poetic descent into the chaos and…
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Resilience Wears Soft Shoes #BlogchatterA2Z #poetry
A river of voices—braided into poetry that stumbles, dances, and rises through the silence. A poetic letter to the weary, the hopeful, and those quietly becoming. Resilience here is not loud—it’s soft, steady, sacred.
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![[unwritten & infinite]](https://pebblegalaxy.blog/wp-content/uploads/2025/03/screenshot_20250309-054929_chatgpt2060885725439868497.jpg?w=1024)
[unwritten & infinite]
I am not stone, not river, not fire, not sky—yet I echo in all of them. Truth unravels in my hands, yesterday burns to smoke, tomorrow opens like a door. Nothing owns me, yet I breathe forward. Again, again, I become.
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