Spoiler Alert 2025

Selected portion of poetry I’m willing to share. For now. 

It’s the year I become my fullest self.

I find my voice.

I speak myself into existence.

I find warmth in the world

    where I know I belong.

My hands touch soil in play and celebration.

I don't care who sees my unmanicured nails caked in dirt.

I wear it like a badge of honor.

I bring life into this world 

    through food and flowers and artwork. 

My art is seen. 

I am seen. 

My art is in galleries and sweet specialty shops all around the country.

I am happy

    glowing. 

Allowing myself to be seen. 

I’m not invisible anymore 

       and it’s okay. 

I share my soul.

It is not met with silence. 

To the contrary, 

     it met with understanding and adoration.

I’ve explored so many paths in the last decade that now,

   now that I’ve found my path,

I’m happy to be on it.

Of course, I’ll keep it interesting, 

    it’s not good when I get bored.

But I’m ready for a little consistency 

     and knowing 

     and feeling solid in my feet. 

I am grounded. 

I breathe deeply.

I move my body daily and start to enjoy it.

I see my strength grow in spirit and muscle

I may be 40 but,

    I haven’t peaked yet. 

I am growing from my grounded roots. 

I love my children fiercely. 

I’ve taught them well, although they have much to learn, I am ready to let them fly

A little.

Sometimes, 

    in short bursts. 

…

No trees will fall on me or my family. 

Not this year, 

     not ever. 

My car will never roll down the driveway. 

My boys will never be hit by a speeding car. 

Poison ivy will never touch my skin again. 

My autoimmune disease will stay in remission. 

I’ll camp under the stars with my boys more than once this year. 

I will love it. 

I will breathe the Mother in through my pores 

     and feel whole. 

I’ll go to the ocean and dive in deep immersing myself in cleansing salt water.

I will spend this summer soaking up the sun. 

I am solar powered after all. 

When autumn returns and New England goes back to sleep,

I will listen to my body and respect what it needs in winter. 

I’ll stay connected to the Mother through my art even when I can’t go outside. 

I’ll curl up with my books in my cozy bed feeling happy and fulfilled, 

    sated. 

Knowing I LIVED in 2025. 

I lived big. 

I am alive. 

In the cold I will rest well 

    knowing I lived well. 

_ Written by Krystle Stevenson