I celebrate without fireworks.No confetti cannons.No orchestral swell announcing my arrival. The sun does not shout when it rises—And yet, … More
Author: Sherley Delia
The Curriculum of Quiet Things
I have studied in cathedrals made of trees,where the syllabus was windand the lectures arrived barefoot. Nature is not dramatic … More
Turns Out, I’m New Here
I’ve been learning new things about myself—Apparently, I’ve been understudying a roleI was never cast in. Who knew? There’s a … More
Seasonal Detachment
Missing you is allowed.I’ve checked.It doesn’t come with a summonsor a return label. Some feelings are just visitors—they pass through,comment … More
What the Elder Knew
A Lakota elder once said—and I keep this where my spine remembers it—You are not livingIf you are not healing. … More
At Dawn, I Remember Who I Am
I arrive like morning—unannounced, inevitable,with no need to convince the horizon. I am the mystic of elegance and power,the kind … More
February, Staying
February announces itself softly—no grand entrance,just a knowing pause at the threshold,as if to say: Pay attention now. The air … More
Muse of the Night, With Alacrity
By night, I take my proper title—muse, not metaphor.The moon assents without argument.It knows a sovereign when it sees one. … More
Crossing, Unbothered
While crossing the street, one stumbled—oncoming traffic near enoughto make the moment interesting.Yet, not hurt.Not hit.Not taken out. Instead, confidence … More
In the Eye of the Universe
There is comfort in remaining in the eye of the universe—covered, comforted, adored, protected—held not by force, but by design. … More