One year of Fire & Rain

One year ago, Fire & Rain became my eighth published book.

By then, you might expect the magic to dull. But it didn’t.
There was still awe in holding it. In seeing the title on the cover. In feeling the weight of the words I had trusted myself enough to share.

A very good and insightful friend helped shape the title and the cover. I followed his instincts, and together we created something that is still visually stunning. Something that reflects what the book holds: tension and tenderness, contradiction and calm.

It wasn’t widely read. Only a handful of people found it.
But I am proud of it.
Not for where it went, but for where it came from.
Because Fire & Rain reminded me of why I write at all.
To name what is felt but unsaid. To reach. To remember. To honour the beauty in what burns and what heals.

To mark this anniversary, I’m sharing a poem from the collection. It holds both the ache and the longing, the clarity and the blur.

Horizons Again

There’s a horizon between us. A fine line that is
invisible yet dividing us. Keeping us apart.
I see you in the mist rising at dawn. A mirage of
undreamt dreams. Nightmares and promises.
The flowers are a colourful distraction from the
grey clouds forming above my head.
I know, without rain nothing would exist. Not the
flowers, not the clouds, no dreams.
Not even us. Why never us?
The distance between us – I can feel it like a hole in
my heart; I can feel it like lightning in the sand.
Where the forest kisses the sky – that’s where our
hearts lie hidden.
If we could exist next to each other, we would be
forever love. Love forever.

 
Fire & Rain is available on Amazon.
Thank you for reading, for staying, for remembering.