Who is the me

Rattling against the triteness

Of borrowed words and identities

Yearning to be formed

With words true and sure

How many words 

Need to be penned into thrash

Peeled and delayered

Such that me me me

May emerge

What is in the who

Waiting to unfold and form

Gifting the fabric of eternity

With a luminosity

That it only can gift


  • Roslina

    Curating beauty in the cadence of the human voice

    Who am I? I wish I knew too. Perhaps here in the virtual space of our interconnectedness will I return unto myself, in ways beyond imagination. Until such time, I am ... a seeker of beauty, curious about presence; a convener of circles, of poetic sensibilities; an alchemist of soul surrendering to the mystery of the human voice; a guardian of hope, camping out at the frontiers of consciousness.