She was still a nomad, searching for a safe and quiet place to dwell.
A gypsy soul with a dreamers heart and an artist's spirit.
Perhaps it was her dreams that kept her whole...

-Rhia Clay

I felt my wandering spirit kick up a dust that rattled in my bones.
Spirit speak, hungry as you are...  

-Rhia Clay

Fighting Spirit

To fight—
You need balance.
To balance—
You require
a platform
to stand upon.

Pull out the floor beneath you,
You have nothing
when you're pushed down—
unable to get up,
Turning the ground beneath
Into seeping sand,
that keeps you on your knees
With nothing to stand on.

My fighting spirit
has vanished.
No longer
Can I pull the wool over my eyes,
pretend I have ground beneath me,
make the wind my friend,
pretend I can fly.

This foundation
that once held me up—
came from voices
that made me feel protected,
hands that held,
ones that made me feel included.
They were meant for me—
and only me.

Quietly,
the wind turned cold.
Hands turned pale,
afraid to touch.
Scared to let the bones bind
and the voices ring.

All that can be done now
Is finding new souls
That can push me
to build something
Thats built for growth
Shaped to show—
How far ive come.
Helping me evolve,
With every brick
That goes into place.

Maybe teach people who surround me
What it means to—
Fall and rise agian

Forge something impenetrable
Never lose that fire inside of you
To keep living
Keep failing,
But still be able to get up
Not a dent in your armor,
Proving you dont give up.

Restore a foundation thats a mine,
Brick by brick,
Making back what you lost,
Assemble what I lost
Only this time
Something only I can unravel.

Return to Grace

Every now and then, the world tries to convince me that I’m broken.
How funny this is, coming from a broken world.
Then, in the silence of my efforts, I look up and realize that my resilience is still mighty and that my indomitable spirit is still soaring.
I am not broken, I am just beginning.
The world is opening before me, and I am receiving it with care.
I feel my grit and resolve rise within me, and I smile because they have not waned.
My spirit was fortified in fire; it can withstand a little rain.
I turn inward, more gentle with myself.
I return to grace.

-Rhia Clay

Among all my life’s accomplishments, my most significant triumph is simply being here, continuing to fight, and holding onto hope.
I exist in both fear and joy, and within this duality lies an immeasurable strength.
I look up at the stars that carry my memories, and I firmly believe, endlessly, that I can still discover my path back home.
I gaze into the water, watching the silent and gentle ripples dance around me, and I realize that my spirit is still in the process of healing, still enveloping me, my faith, intricately weaving patterns in my thoughts, flowing and revitalizing my very essence.
This is the exact place where God guided me to listen to his voice, to find peace in his presence, and to be reassured that he is alive and breathing for me, infusing life into me, allowing my being to mend.

-Rhia Clay