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When I Right
I love to write.
Or perhaps I love the feeling of
being written.
Or, more clearly,
both.
I feel him, them, me, us…
when I do,
when I am.
I settle into stillness
and words come.
In the currents of quiet,
they flow.
In the tender light of being
just as I am,
they rise.
The radiance of change
glows.
Soft reminders
of cloudscapes, snow hearts,
birds on the wing
reveal.
When I write,
I right that which
has been
askew.
I feel unconstricted,
welcome,
loved.
I feel just what I felt
with him
and understand
ever more viscerally
the grace and steadiness
of the love we share,
that it truly is
everywhere.
Sarah Carlson
Sept. 25-29, 2026
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