Invisible threads connect us in time-storms to our loved ones on this windswept day and blue-moon night.

by Andrea Connolly
31.10.2020 Halloween
© By #AndreaCConnolly
hope sparks found above grounded angst
There are moments of glimmer. Hope sparks. They arise unexpectedly from soul touches.
You are bound by many things yet your mind roams the realms without boundaries. Your spirit is heightened by simple gestures. Words of gentle tones. Smiles of a beloved face. Lift your own countenance up so ancient angst can glide off. It may linger yet grounded it will never reach the levels of raised appreciation.
Found hope sparks heal broken shells.
2nd September 2014 – AC
Sometimes life leaves you wordless. You drift in obligations or little multiplied tasks. You grasp for every syllable. You slide through the mud of lost words. Until you sit with yourself and listen. Your heart still beats. You pick up your pen and write your name. One word. The beginning of all that was lost.
10th October 2021
By Andrea Connolly
#AndreaCConnolly
Open letter to all I deeply care for
My dear
All of a sudden we were stopped in our tracks, the ones that we were used to take. We stand on our own now, sometimes wobbly, sometimes strong. Hanging our heads would be giving in to the gravity. And we feel the yoke for a while, still, despite of it been swooped away from us. What are we without our tracks, our habits, our routines, our work, our bodily connections. A stark stillness settles. It could unnerve and perhaps did for some time. All we hear and see was filtered for so long by our rash daily schedules. Planning ahead was thrown overboard in an instant. Running after things was suspended over the abyss of standstill. Shuffled hesitation, ruffled emotions, swirling moods thickened in possible angst. Sheer presence in all its calmness resurfaced from the muddy lake of misconceptions. To…
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St. Brigid´s Cross, Sea grass, handmade – photograph by Andrea Connolly
Reeds her home
Sea grass her cloak
She weaves
And breathes life
In brokenness
Brigid upon the isle
.
©By Andrea Connolly
#AndreaCConnolly
#Lore
#Saints
#Folklore
What is in a word?
The difference between speaking and being silent
The importance of sounding right
The essence of connecting or disengagement
A word can be heard when someone listens
A word can be read if someone sees
A word needs senses to understand and to be understood
A word can heal or hurt
Choose your word with heart and gentleness
If perchance you want to belong
28th December 2018
Copyright by Andrea Connolly
The mystic blackforest
The sky threw a shroud
Too flimsy to cover it all
The colourful tree tops
That root in brooked valleys
Thread autumn to grey-cold
The gust of wind-strewn
Time-worm ochre, sienna
Tinged sap and wine
This is the fabric of fairy-tales
30.10.2018
© By Andrea Connolly
Through my eyes my soul flies to glints of reflection. A mosaic opens a window that is there and is not there. Drawn to an artists impression of a crowned lady. Connection in my heart to our lady. Angels flutter and kneel. The king, the queen, human beings and yet not so much. An image of believing, belonging and longing. Out of the blue I wish I could see what I feel what is real on a different invisible level. – 17th July 2018 by Andrea Connolly
We want to retain what we cannot. We feel the velvet of summer, the tenderness of living and the depth of warmth. Fragrance lingers but for a while. Our eyes drink and our mind holds dear connecting senses to heart. The heart of May. The woman in us, all of us, unfolding our gentle hearts and there is the gift of giving, the bloodline of love.
©By Andrea Connolly, 21st of May 2018
Beautiful poem by Catherine Baker
a blackbird’s journey
written in blue dusk on snow
these shadowed footprints
sharp as the thought that sent it
skittering under the hedge
two stuttering hops
and then the smooth skim of wings
out beyond my words
light drops a gold word
in the heart of a thornbush
naming a blackbird