The Tender Descending by Ellie Augustin
The Tender Descending
Ellie Augustin
The earth exhales and everything slows.
The trees remember what it means to be bare.
We gather what warmth remains in our hands
and stitch our dreams beneath quiet skies.
Each flake that lands upon the skin
is a messenger of mercy,
a reminder that even in endings,
something tender still descends.
More from Ellie A ↓
- @lines_between_living on Instagram and @linesbtwnliving on Substack
- Read more from her on her blog, Lines Between Living
Mentioned in this episode:
Write After: National Poetry Month with One Poem Only
Write After is a way to encourage poets to listen and write, and use National Poetry Month to highlight how listening to poetry makes us better poets. I know I write the best when I’m surrounded by beautiful poetry–it’s part of the reason I created this podcast, and I want to encourage others to share this practice. We'll get started in April. You can share to #WriteAfterOPO.
