Word Weaving

Even when her doubts spoke loudly

Language: She fell apart and bled for it But all it had ever wanted Was to love her.

The stories flocked to her light Like moths to a flame But her heart had shut Months ago. Years, maybe. She didn’t know how to pry it open again If she even wanted to.

She felt She’d been nothing But a disappointment. The words told her This wasn’t true.

Her words made a difference, here. Every hour she sat and Laboured over them Mended some tear In the fabric of time. She was a word weaver A wisdom keeper Of stories only ever Softly spoken at night.

Still Her doubts whispered lies Told her nothing mattered That she didn’t matter That she was far too small Too insignificant To make a dent To be more than a drop In an ocean that would swallow her voice With all its pounding.

Why even try?

The world needed her But More than that She needed herself. She needed her stories And her stories needed her For they were the language of her soul

She was learning.

So she picked up the pen and tried again.

As a poet, writer, and intuitive guide, Maia Thom works with words to create spaces for people to breathe and come home to themselves. In 2020, she published her first anthology, Kitchen Table Talks: Simple Reminders + Thoughts on Life. You can find her on Instagram as @maia.thom where she shares poetry, art, and practical wisdom to offer daily moments of calm.