A whole world exists on the underside, showing us something different, hidden in the dark. An audio poetry reading by Kirsten Harrison.

Gratitude surges as I realize the only word my lips remember is the only key that unlocks this door.

“This is a call from your soul, awakening your life to new possibilities.” —John O’Donohue. Listen to Kirsten read Norman MacCaig’s poem, Presents.

Kirsten reads Montana Sky Time by Rob Baker in a voice memo.

A simple practice for drawing on wisdom beyond rational thinking and pro-con lists — a steadying anchor for the disorientation of a dark night of the soul.

Vibrant beauty that once took away breath is a backdrop now; you search for novel sacraments.

He is one of many who,
while walking the road of daily-ness,
catches a fragrance
so tantalizing, so familiar

like no other thing there are categories for,
and cannot not follow it.

Has anything ever been more clear? Anything more obscure?

Spiritual practices for holding uncertainty, grief, disorientation, restlessness, and dark night seasons with presence, compassion, and deep listening.

Friends, I mustn’t tell you the way,
but lean your heart in close;
I'll cover my whisper.

In the return,
in the silence,
a permeable fractal
perceives Source.

At the sudden realization of my error, my heart sinks; my face burns hot and red.

You can't see beyond the next step, but you know what it feels like to let go. It’s time to sense into that knowing.

Love is always a flow. How do we hold these powerful forces with care? Is there a place one can go to say "I'm on fire..."

Every so often, I’m visited by a traveling itch.
I push up my sleeve and scratch deeply,
but this itch is a deft matador.

Here's a poem of grounding, written from myself to myself. These words are an anchor to guide my home.

I didn’t fall down a slippery slope, I kept climbing to escape it.

Listen for your inner wisdom through the prism of poetry with Mary’s Olivers Leaves and Blossoms Along the Way.