"The slabs of ice caked over my irises / will melt into lakes, / these lips one day will bloom." - from "A Time for Winter" There is a time and purpose for every season. Seasons can force us to confront the dark things inside us, to face our fears, to feel the hurt. Seasons can call on us to shed what no longer serves, to let go of dead weight, to burn so that we can rise up. Seasons can nurture us into blossoming, opening up our hearts to love, growth, and possibility. But first, there is a time for winter. A time to sit ...
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"The slabs of ice caked over my irises / will melt into lakes, / these lips one day will bloom." - from "A Time for Winter" There is a time and purpose for every season. Seasons can force us to confront the dark things inside us, to face our fears, to feel the hurt. Seasons can call on us to shed what no longer serves, to let go of dead weight, to burn so that we can rise up. Seasons can nurture us into blossoming, opening up our hearts to love, growth, and possibility. But first, there is a time for winter. A time to sit in stillness with the newly bare self. A time for sweeping away the ashes. A time to channel the wild, ancient energy of sun, moon, salt, and earth. A time for self care. A time for healing. A Time for Winter takes you on one poet's journey through her own hard seasons. Feeling the hurt and dead weight of anxiety, depression, and regret over a past long gone by going inward and pulling it all up to the surface before letting it go so that the real work can begin: stillness, self care, healing. My journey toward healing was powered by writing, yoga, therapy, rooting down into the earth, and reaching up toward the lights of our universe. I am still healing. I am learning to love and care for myself. I am planting the seeds for my blossoming. I am preparing for my rising. I am in the winter of my youth. "...powerful and gripping, emotionally evocative, and I found pieces of myself in every line." - Ashley Jane, poet and author of Love, Lies and Lullabies "...motifs which once were bound to feelings of desperation and loss, morph into vessels for hope. This is a result of Quinn's craft - her nuanced understanding of progression and structure." - Kristiana Reed, poet and author of Flowers on the Wall "Someday I'll look myself in the mirror- in the eyes, down the curves, across the arid heart space and the bays between my bones, over the violet-veined skin stretched canvas tight around them -and know love." - from "Body & Mind"
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