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the astral audience
I wonder what image Joanne held onto of me. If only I could peer into her prism, into what remained. What traces were there of the young and uptight American fidgeting around a pot of coffee, speaking French clumsily like a cat with a dead bird in its mouth?

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Filed under:
love, death, france

what is love?
Love is being,
a natural way of being.
Love is looking within.
Love is looking all around.
Love is listening,
truly listening.

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Filed under:
love, ocean, florida, usa, poetry

a whisper in a wind tunnel
“It is because I dove into the abyss that I am beginning to love the abyss I am made of.”
― Clarice Lispector

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plantas sagradas
“Warriorship is a continual journey. To be a warrior is to learn to be genuine in every moment of your life.“ 
— Chögyam Trungpa

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My life as a city-dwelling gringa turned me into a dull knife blade: I wanted it too, that sharpness, the ability to see what others cannot see.

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Filed under:
costa ricatrees © 2024
(there are other sarah rose’s, but this is the new one)