There are days and seasons when I vanish,
I fold into stillness like the summer sun in all its glory,
disappearing beneath the horizon —
not gone, just hidden, gathering.Creativity doesn't always arrive
in a blaze of brilliance.
Bold hungry energy.
Ready to devour, ready to burst -
Like fat overstuffed fireworks missiled onto the canvas.
Sometimes it hums soft
in the belly of silence,
a murmur of maybe
before the bloom.
Small steps instead of leaps.
Quiet and faint, slowly stirring.I have learned to honor
the in-between,
where nothing is finished
and nothing has begun —
only the quiet knowing that there is more to come.I used to fight the ebb,
feared the hush between heartbeats,
craved the flood, the fire,
the rush of doing.
But now I listen
to the subtle pull of spirit,
the lunar rhythm of my heart and soul.
What leaves me
makes space for what longs to arrive.
I am not broken —
I am tidal.
Worthy, even in retreat.
Whole, even in hush.So I rest in the mystery,
open-palmed, open-hearted,
a vessel for the beauty of flow.
"Ebb and Flow" speaks to the sacred rhythm of life, creativity, and oneself — a gentle reminder that we are not machines built only for action and output, but living beings meant to move through seasons of rising and retreating. This poem honours the often-overlooked wisdom of rest, of pausing, of vanishing not out of weakness but necessity. The imagery of vanishing “like the summer sun” or the tide receding reminds us that even in moments of stillness, we are not absent — we are gathering, becoming, quietly preparing for what’s next.
It is also a reclamation of slowness, of honoring the quiet stirrings of creativity that don’t always roar but whisper instead. It is a reflection of the natural contrasts in life’s experiences—from chasing the fire and flood of doing to learning to trust the subtle rhythms of spirit and inner knowing.
This poem invites you to embrace the ebb as deeply as the flow, to know your worth in the hush, and to trust that what feels like a pause is often sacred preparation. In this space, we remember that healing, inspiration, and wholeness often arrive not in the noise, but in the quiet.
P.S. I’d love to hear—What layers of yourself are waiting to be uncovered, expressed, and brought to life?
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