Alla inlägg märkta: creative writing

Dear May…

… you come bearing sunshine, you come bearing love. ”and there you were, right there, in the middle of things.” – beautiful now   As I find myself moving with the waves, a sense of peace floating through my veins. The sun caressing my heart, the Moon my entire being. Providing me with love and light. Dear nature, dear ocean, you feed me hope. You feed me laughter. The way you so effortlessly transform into a beautiful work of art.  Darling May, breathe my air, and kiss me there. I’m a little cold, but your lips fire up my soul. Run wild with me, let us chase our dreams. Today won’t come again. May is all about speaking with honesty. Living with integrity, boldness and compassion. The words you speak become the house you live in. Now is the time to trust. Trust yourself, trust your calling. Staying open to how the sky, at night, changing its colors, hour by hour. May is for magical, heart-warming evenings. Nature, and humans, reborn. Wherever life plants you, …

Dear October…

… you’re like the warmest, most passionate hug. Kiss me, empower me. Don’t ever leave. ”While some people like to dance underneath the stars in June, others like to play with the red leaves of October, and I’m blissfully, wholeheartedly stuck in the middle.”   Like the wisest of them all, dear October; you’re letting go of what no longer serves you. Your brisk wind makes everything rejuvenating. Clear intentions. Clear thoughts. Making room for what’s new. The days; alluring and brightful, the nights; dark and calm. I sense there’s a star waiting to be born, intentions waiting to be established, a nature waiting to be cherished, a life waiting to be lived.  October is for watching the red leaves falling. Letting go. Taking action, working hard. Believing in the power of the soul. Believing in oneself. Loving oneself. Just like nature, we transform. Becoming whole, empowered and complete. Putting positive intentions into everything we do. Dare to dream big; if it scares you it means you’ll grow. Silently witness the beauty of nature. Notice …

Dear August…

… I think you’ll make my soul dance. ”Believe in yourself, darling human. Believe. Flowers will grow.”   August is for humid days, foggy nights. Soul searching and loving kindness. It’s for vulnerability and softness. Finding that inner, burning fire. Moonlight and thunderstorm. Poetry filled with soul and passion, the wildest of dreams coming true. It has always been you, dear August. Always been you.  Be brave, darling dear. Be brave. Everything you wish for, believe, and it will come to you. Don’t you know you were created to create? Create magic. Create yourself. If it’s meant to be it will flow to you, effortlessly and oh so gently. Give yourself permission to relax and enjoy the magic of being. Breathe in confidence. Exhale doubt. Stay wild, darling moon child, stay wild. Life always has your back. This August is all about success, bravery and dusty, dreamy mornings. Things working out exactly as supposed to. It’s about true inner freedom. Not getting lost in thoughts, but objectively watching them pass by. ”Come to know the one who watches the …

Dear May…

… you took me by storm. I’m forever lost in your impulsive grace. ”Fight for the fairy tale. It does exist.”   May is for waking up too early. The morning sun dazzling through the broken window. Burning with passion, awakening tired souls. The birds are singing, the red roses blooming. It’s a new day. A bright future. May is for magical, heart-warming evenings. The nature, and humans, reborn.  May is a month when everything is thriving; the cherry trees, the flowers, the hearts. Let her sensuality caress you. Embrace you. You know, she’s blossoming just for you. This May is all about letting the alluring spirit shine through. Exploring the unknown, and taking chances. Believing in the magic of life. The beauty of humanity. Early morning runs and yoga. Awaken the body. Awaken your creativity. It’s about taking the time to learn about oneself. Every day becoming more and more self-aware. It’s about poetry and expressing emotions. Reading and gaining knowledge. The nature, so breathtaking and flourishing, just like you. It’s about leaving things …

Dear spring…

… you’re my sunshine. My darling friend, you’re beautiful from day one. ”The morning sun dazzling through the broken window. Caressing my soft heart, my recovered soul. Oh, how I adore the warmth she brings.   Life changes with the seasons. Even the coldest, darkest winter happens for a reason. However, it won’t last forever. Spring is coming. Wait, she’s already here, shining brightly on all of us. Let her embrace you. Don’t try to understand her, just love her. And let her shine.  Through seasons she’s changing, Mother Nature. Like you, through your experiences, your being. Every second you have the possibility to move forward, to evolve. Embrace your colors. Only you decide where you’re going. Only you decide when it’s your season to change. Know, that from all of the chaos a flower will start to blossom. Spring is the season when I feel most alive. I blame the sunlight, the long days and short nights. The nature – pure, fresh and green. Spring might as well be cold and rainy, but it’s …

”At least we are breathing the same air – you & I”

”We write down made-up stories to tell the truths we wish we could say out loud.”   5 AM. ‘A good night’s sleep? Merely a memory,’ the young boy thought while trying to scratch his upper back. His left hand reached out to the other side of the bed, searching for something that wasn’t there. He grabbed the pillow, pulled it close to his chest, forced himself to awaken old memories, old scents. Regardless of how hard he tried he could not forget that scent. There were people who got caught up in old memories while listening to music. It was the smell, that haunted him. He dragged himself out of bed to open the balcony door. His feet touched the raw, biting surface. He was paralyzed, and in some miraculous way his broken heart still found a way to beat. The thunderstorm had kept him up all night. He had never gotten over them, traumatised since early childhood. And the rashes, those damn rashes. He had never gotten rid of them either. ‘Will I ever …