Acorn
Home is like your fist, an acorn waiting to spring root. Home is not your prison of convention, nor a migrant’s shelter, it’s neither pillow nor the pavement. Home is […]
Home is like your fist, an acorn waiting to spring root. Home is not your prison of convention, nor a migrant’s shelter, it’s neither pillow nor the pavement. Home is […]
The river is both change and sameness It’s an endless new beginning from its birth in raindrops, rivulets and streams through the rush of waterfalls, the sluggish movement under bridges […]
Writing about living in two places (and times)
Poems & Stories from The Author Stew
practising for a whole life
haikai poetry matters
Running in the slow lane
The view from here ... Or here!
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” — Albert Einstein
chronicling my quarter life crisis