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Maybe it isn’t what it was
maybe the memories have become like a fuzz blurring the rough edges and hard truths. Maybe all this time it was just a ruse created by my mind. Maybe it isn’t what it was and all of this is just because I can’t face the reality of it, so I mold the memories to make them fit into a reality I never knew but wanted. ~Liz Austin 2019
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 When a storm rears up with rage
you don’t see the Raven taking cover, instead she rides the winds like a wise old sage who knows better than to seek shelter in which to hover. She faces the storm with her head held high and harnesses its winds to fly. She doesn’t let the wind take her down but uses it to lift and propel her up towards the clouds, high above the ground. There she soars with wings spread wide though the winds rage and the rain pours, she takes it all in stride. So I will soar like a Raven, and navigate this storm with the skills of a maven as the clouds take form, I will face it without fright, though the skies seem black I will find the light, And I. Will. Soar. by Liz Austin 2019 |
AuthorBorn and raised in Upstate NY, Liz is a freelance writer. She has written for websites, blogs, and magazines for the last 10 years. She works as a freelance writer and editor, as well as a proofreader and beta reader for several authors, all the while working on her first book. Archives
July 2020
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