Miriam E. Miles

Tag: miriam miles

  • threshold

    threshold

    she stands at the door and knocks, the Alice in her wondering at the adventures that lay behind it, her feet twitching in excitement for the slippery dip

  • water-logged

    water-logged

    sopping up the dribble, hands and feet, fretting over every drop, its stain on the floor, its presence

  • Anchor

    Anchor

    My boat sits atop the ocean, the sky, and waves indistinguishable in the dead of night. I sense the wave coming and brace

  • Plates

    Plates

    jeering a grin water-coloured crystal shimmer spindle-esqe discs spin

  • Fragments

    Fragments

    Scattered they are strewn confetti pieces of fragments

  • Humble pie

    Humble pie

    I have become quite uncomfortable with the level of humility God seems to want me to experience.

  • Whose 8 Ball am I behind?

    Whose 8 Ball am I behind?

    For as long as I can remember I have felt like I’ve missed something – some kind of hidden social instructions I seem to have not received at birth

  • Fake it Till you Make it

    Fake it Till you Make it

    ‘Just fake it till you make it’, they say, but who really lives this idiom? Spoiler alert – as far as I know, no one does. Definitely not me. I get it though. It’s sometimes worth giving ourselves a pep talk, shooting from the hip

  • Excuse Me, But Which Way to Encounter God?

    Excuse Me, But Which Way to Encounter God?

    I’ve been reflecting lately on the way we relate to God and what the experience of having a relationship with him might really be like if we move beyond the standard metrics we’ve come to accept.

  • Light Bearers

    Light Bearers

    We are the Light Bearers, we carry firelight in our bones, our sinews resonate with its pulse, our blood dances to its beat.

  • Grit

    Grit

    Never before have I felt the pull so strong, to put pen to paper, declare I belong on the page. The written stage –

  • And so, she soars

    And so, she soars

    She feared the tide – the ebb and flow of her mind’s capacity – for so long that she almost forgot the sound of it’s gentle swoosh along the shore, the pebbles of creativity pushed gently, purposefully forward.