Woodlot Words | Rituals

Woodlot Words | Rituals

inhale
(one, two, three)


the weight of the world is worn on
your cheekbones
your shoulders
your hips


(the traffic was terrible; the rain, persistent; the hours dripped slow like hard honey from a spoon)



Let the Long Day End.

Scrub off smooth over.

Return to Self.



cracks and creases
are not
slashes and scars
from enduring
but moments
of
joy
pain
sorrow
triumph
mapped gently across your skin

Embrace Them.

recall the patchwork pattern of your day as you shed and dip into warm waters—
a bathtub draped in oils
each one, a remedy

Here You Are.

store your self safely near the candle you burn each night


this flickering spark:
the intention you hold
this faith
burning
promising
that tomorrow will be bright.



exhale
(one, two, three)

Back to Blog
Sale

Unavailable

Sold Out