The Ravine runs deep. Splits the land near in two. The finest tendrils of Earth’s matter cling across the void.
When the divide happens, a field will rise from the abyss. And there is where we gather, to let the wind from the past, caress our fingers toward the soil, feeling where the barley grows and the dead reside.
"Initially, the poem was a response to my personal physical and mental state after years of depression, anxiety and some traumatic experiences. And my attempts to pull through it.
As it evolved it takes more of a universal perspective, acknowledging that all trauma and/or suffering is shared whether consciously or not, that we exist in a constant state of transformation, with infinite outcomes beginnings and endings, and that understanding can be a source of hope and valuing our place in life's cycle."