Author: litteraeastra
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A Constellation Of My Own Making
I think I forgot something important—I forgot who I was. This morning, I poured a cup of sage tea and watched the golden sunrise spill across the sky. A drop of my essence returned to me. Somewhere, lost in the threads of time, I had left myself behind. But little by little, I gathered fragments…
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Nostalgic November
Image Source: Unsplash- Marina Abrosimova November tastes of half-light wine, poured in a cup from the divine. I lost myself between ghosts, in this nostalgic month of almosts. The year exhales a tired grace, time lingers, unsure of its place. I raise my glass to what decays, to all that stayed, and could not stay.…
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The Past That Refuses To Sleep
Image Source: Pexels- Troy Olson I talked with trees about you in the twirling wind. Their branches murmured back, the air itself whispered your name through the ether. Like a thief in the night, you move where shadows pool. Your face flickers on the moon, water carries your scent, and owls cry your name across…
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The Sleeper In The Snow
Image Credit: Pexels- Pixabay I tore through heaven’s gates, With blood on my lips, Just to reach you And still, you sleep, Buried deep in the drifting snow. I descended through the pit of hell, To find a white flame’s glow A fire fierce enough to break The ice around your soul. But even yearning…
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What The Wind Carries
Image Credit: Pexels- Nuto Sorokina Birds warble softly behind trees Golden rays flicker through the leaves. Wind drifts through my tangled hair Nostalgia lingers in the air. Dogs chase echoes in the forest’s core, Where laughter and peace are lost evermore. Joy was a canvas we once used to paint, Now faded and broken by…
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The Girl Who Dreamed In Runes
Image Source: Pexels- Ron Lach There is a girl who was born from poems not yet written, who speaks in the quiet alphabet of dreams. Her soul carries forgotten cities — stone bridges, mossy hills, empty roads where ancestors still walk. Even when she smiles, there’s a sadness at the edge, the kind that only…
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Lantern
I lit an old lantern, its flame dancing softly, casting shadows that move in patterns. I hold it in my hand, lighting my path, slowly. In silence, I walk— bare feet brushing the earth— searching for something that doesn’t want to be found. The lantern flickers, its light fleeting, revealing fragments of the darkened night.…
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Back Home, On The Moon
Sometimes, in the cold autumn nights I embark on a journey towards the moon. To find my way back home, in the heights Where memories linger from a night in June. Visualizing the moon’s gentle embrace, A sweet feeling arises, my heart finds peace. Moonlight softly kisses my cheeks, As the world around me quietly…