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Poetry

A selection of poems written across different moments and cycles.
Some brief. Some unfolding slowly.
Each one given its own space.

Wilderness

There is no place called wilderness, It’s just a trick, a false address. A word you made to split the scene, To crown yourself the go between.

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After us

Humans gone, weeds move in, ivy grins, it’s a win-win. Tarmac cracks, dandelions cheer, Look who’s boss of the car park here.
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I invite you

I invite you to feel at home. You come with stories etched in silence, with tears that others wish to see, with hope hidden in your chest.
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Iceland: Fire, Ice, and Us

The road unravels into blue horizons, a ribbon drawn toward the glacier’s mouth. The world is not finished. It is beginning.
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