Elora Rising

Please enjoy these poems written from my heart to yours

Love,
it is only ever this moment,
this fleeting breath,
this now.
To show up,
to love greatly,
to pour your heart out
like an endless, golden stream.

I hope, oh, I hope,
you keep your heart soft,
no matter the storms you’ve weathered,
no matter the scars that etch your story.
I hope you love every day
as if the sun rose just for you,
as if the world conspired
to drape you in wonder.

Burn, darling.
Burn so brightly
that when your time comes
to return to the stars,
you’ll merely be going home.
Sparkle, shine,
dare greatly,
in all that you are,
in every day,
in every soul you love.

For you,
you are not just a light,
you are a constellation,
a galaxy of hope,
a firework in human form.
Darling,
you are pure magic.

You stand among the ashes,
the weight of what was crumbled beneath your feet,
yet still, you breathe.
Still, your heart beats steady,
a whisper of the divine reminding you,
you were made for more than this.

The places that broke you
tried to claim your name,
etched their shadows into your skin.
But you are no prisoner
to the ghosts of what once was.
You are the fire that outlives the ruin.

To leave is to love yourself enough
to see the promise of tomorrow
even when today feels like endless night.
To walk away is not to fail,
but to rise,
to choose life where only decay once lingered.

Trust in the unseen hands
that hold you in the dark,
in the whispers of a God
who has never let you fall
without the strength to rise again.
Each step forward,
a hymn of faith,
a prayer of defiance
against the pull of the past.

You do not look back.
The rubble has no voice here,
no claim to the light
you now carry within.
Every scar is a chapter closed,
every tear a seed of something new.

And as you move,
not with haste but with grace,
you find the truth:
you are not broken.
You are whole in the rising.
You are love in motion.
You are proof that even the darkest nights
bow to the dawn.

Step by step,
you rewrite the story,
walking not in fear,
but in the faith
that the best is still ahead.

The tears make the sexy,
salt-streaked whispers of becoming,
the kind that burn, that ache,
that leave you raw but radiant,
as if the pain itself kissed you awake.

The more you cry,
the more you shed the skin
that no longer fits,
the more you climb,
each step forged in fire and surrender.

Break, yes, break wide open.
Fall apart like rivers meeting the sea,
let the pieces scatter,
because in their scattering,
you will find yourself again.

Be made new,
not once, not twice,
but again and again,
for transformation is no one-time thing,
it is a hymn sung at the level of identity.

It costs everything,
this climb,
this shedding,
this sacred undoing,
but oh, the price makes the view sweeter.

So cry, shed, break, transform.
Let yourself climb higher,
unapologetically alive,
a phoenix born of your own tears.

In the early morning, when the world is still,
And shadows press heavy, bending your will,
Broken to your core, crying on the floor,
A breathless ache, unable to endure.

Yet, in this darkness, raw and bare,
You are not abandoned; love is there.
This pain, this stripping, this aching void,
It is the sheath from which you’ll be deployed.

For every tear that falls, a seed is sown,
In the soil of grief, your strength is grown.
Though your heart feels shattered, beyond repair,
The promises are whispered in the air.

Each dawn brings new mercies, new light to see,
Even in despair, you are being set free.
This breaking, this fire, is not your end,
It is the forge where your spirit mends.

So lay there if you must, let the sorrow pour,
Feel the weight of the storm, the thunder’s roar.
But know this truth, let it echo deep,
You are held, even when you cannot weep.

For the dark is a womb, not a tomb of despair,
And the morning will rise with a love laid bare.
You are being prepared, made whole once more,
What’s been stripped away will be restored.

Do not look back,
the past is a shadow,
a lesson etched in the bark
of a tree that knows to shed.

Be like the trees in winter,
let go of what is brittle,
what no longer nourishes,
what has grown too heavy to carry.

Root deeper,
feel the earth cradle your weight.
Soak in the sun,
even when it hides
behind clouds of gray.

Rest.
This is not quitting,
this is gathering strength.
The world may sleep,
but beneath the surface,
life stirs, whispers,
promises to bloom.

Soon, the blossoms will come,
delicate yet fierce,
reaching for the sky
with all the hope you hold
inside your chest.

So keep growing.
Do not look back.
Forward is where the light lives.

You were born with seeds in your hands,
Tiny, unshaped, and full of promise.
The soil before you waits in quiet expectation,
Yearning to receive what only you can give.

Will you bury them,
Hiding their splendor in the dark,
Afraid the world may take what is not yours to keep?
Or will you sow them wide and far,
Risking the storms and the seasons of drought,
Trusting the sun to kiss what you’ve planted?

There is no shame in the waiting,
No blame in the days where nothing breaks the earth.
But the shame comes in the withholding,
When fear whispers:
“Do not risk, do not try, do not trust.”

Yet what is a seed if not meant to grow?
What is a gift if it is never shared?
The talents were never yours to own,
Only to multiply,
To break open and transform
Into trees that shelter,
Into fruits that nourish,
Into legacies that linger long after your shadow fades.

So cast your seeds,
Even when your hands tremble.
Invest in the unseen,
For the Master returns not to count what you’ve saved,
But to witness what you’ve grown.

And when He sees your garden,
He will smile,
And call you good and faithful.

Life spills over, messy and wild,
A tapestry tangled, not neatly compiled.
Days that tire, nights that break,
Hearts that shatter, ache upon ache.

Yet still, we rise, a rhythm, a beat,
Through mud and chaos, we steady our feet.
We rest, not quit; we breathe, not flee,
Holding the weight of all that must be.

The unknown calls, a whisper, a dare,
A step into shadows, hearts laid bare.
We stumble forward, uncertain, unsure,
Carrying truths we’ve learned to endure.

The mess is proof, a vivid refrain,
Of a life well-lived through joy and pain.
Raw and real, every crack and scar,
A testament to how alive we are.

So feel it all, this essence, this fire,
The depths of despair, the heights of desire.
Life may be messy, but it’s yours to own,
A symphony lived, a heart fully known.

The heaviness sits like ash in my chest,
as famine swallows bellies,
wars rage like storms unrelenting,
abuse etches scars unseen.
Fires crackle, devouring what remains.
Waters rage, claiming homes and hope.
Snow falls, a silent grave for the forgotten.

And here I am,
a witness to anguish through a glowing screen,
hands idle, heart raw,
asking: where do we turn
when the world feels fated in sorrow?

Today, I have little words.
I hold space for the breaking,
the burning, the mourning, the lost.
All I can do is pray,
and let the love I believe in
rise like the dawn,
unfurling light in the shadows.

But prayer must move to action,
to hands that lift,
to feet that walk toward the hurting.
To be the vessel of Him
in this fractured, fragile world.

How will you respond? I hear.
Will you crack your heart open
and lift your hands in service?
Will you rejoice even when you ache?
Will you pour your love into the suffering?
How will you spend your one precious life?

Be of service. Be the light.
Be the balm for wounds unseen.
For though the world may tremble,
our love can still reign,
an unyielding thread of hope
woven through the storm.


The cold bites, sharp and true,
a mirror of all we carry inside,
the unspoken fears, the quiet doubts,
the edges of who we thought we were.

But the cold does not destroy.
It strengthens.
Like roots twisting deeper into frozen soil,
we find our ground,
unyielding, unshaken.

Winter whispers lessons only the brave can hear,
that life is not found in evasion,
but in standing still, exposed,
letting the frost carve wisdom into our being.

Through the hard, we rise.
Through the harsh, we root.
The brittle winds remind us
that resilience is not soft.
It is steel forged in frigid fire,
it is the sap that sleeps only to bloom stronger come spring.

We, too, must ground in the stillness,
root in the barren,
grow in the cold.
For in these moments,
the soul remembers its power,
and the heart,
its unyielding warmth.

You reach for me in the echoes,
but I am already gone,
a silhouette slipping through
the cracks of your dawn.

No light can find me now,
I wear the night as my crown,
each step further from your touch,
each breath a sacred vow.

You want my fire,
but I am the smoke,
rising and vanishing,
a whisper, a choke.

These black-out days,
they hold me still,
a ghost in the mirror,
an unbroken will.

Do you feel the weight,
this void we carved?
It tastes like freedom,
but it’s cold and starved.

Your voice, a distant hum,
lost in a static haze,
while I roam the edges
of these black-out days.

I used to be the spark,
the lantern in your storm,
but now I am the void,
the absence of warm.

You’ll find no answers here,
just shadows that remain,
a horizon, dark and boundless,
a tetherless chain.

Your words,
they try to pull me back,
but I am the silence
between the static cracks.

There’s no rhythm left
in this fractured sound,
only echoes twisting
to the void we found.

These black-out days,
I live them well,
a secret language
only I can spell.

Don’t look for me now,
don’t follow my trace.
I’m untethered, unseen,
a fading face.

Every pulse,
every beat,
is another wall
I won’t let you breach.

You tried to hold me,
but I’m voltage untamed,
coursing through a darkness
that you cannot name.

Black-out days,
electric haze,
I am the current
you cannot chase.

Let me be,
a ghost in the wire,
unseen, unheard,
an untouchable fire.

The first dusting whispers across the ground,
A breath of snow in a quiet town.
Not enough to blanket, not enough to bind,
But just enough to awaken the mind.

Glistening threads in the morning sun,
A fleeting promise, winter’s begun.
Each crystal dances, catching the light,
A fleeting moment, soft and bright.

The trees stand still, their arms aglow,
Cradling the beauty of fallen snow.
The air is crisp, the world feels new,
As the seasons shift, their colors true.

And in this shimmer, your soul takes flight,
A gentle reminder of nature’s might.
For in the seasons, we find our place,
A rhythm, a cycle, a quiet grace.

In the stillness, you find a flicker,
a quiet light, soft and tender,
waiting for the breath to rise,
to spark, to flame, to realize.

You stand there, bathed in morning’s glow,
as the warmth seeps in, slow, then bold,
a golden touch against your skin,
inviting every pulse within.

Your soul ignites, alive, awake,
like dawn upon a quiet lake,
reflecting back a fire’s might,
both fierce and gentle, raw, and bright.

Here you are, in silent blaze,
in moments held, a soul ablaze,
to feel, to burn, to simply be,
fully alive, wild and free.

The universe, a vast and endless womb,
Where stars ignite and lifetimes bloom,
God the Creator, of light and breath,
Gifted the womb with power over death.

In the darkness, where galaxies weave,
God whispered life, and hearts believed.
Infinite love in the pulse and the beat,
In every woman, a miracle complete.

Blessed with the soil, where seeds take root,
Where life finds shelter, where dreams bear fruit.
Sacred and tender, the holding so pure,
The womb of creation, the eternal cure.

In every breath, in every cry,
The essence of God, the reason why.
Abundance flowing, in endless streams,
The sacred union of all living dreams.

For every heartbeat, for every life,
The womb, the vessel, the eternal wife.
The sacred holding, the infinite grace,
In every woman, God’s love takes place.

And so the universe sings her song,
To the miracle of life where we all belong.
In the soil, in the stars, in every bloom,
The sacred power of the eternal womb.

Good night, my soul, the world turns slow,
In this quiet space, I come to know—
The place where I was first called whole,
Where the universe carved out my soul.

I would find myself in shadows deep,
Where even dreams dare not to creep.
In lifetimes where I forgot my name,
In bodies broken, in whispered flame.

I would know me with eyes turned in,
Through storms and tides, where all begins.
For love is etched in every scar,
A compass guided by the farthest star.

I come home to self, to truth, to me,
Where I’ve always been, where I’m meant to be.
And as stars fall silent, one by one,
I’ll cradle myself when the day is done.

In this life and those I’ve yet to see,
I’ll learn to love the heart in me.
For I am whole, from sky to sea,
Returning always, to the love that’s free.


In the garden of sisters, where roses entwine,
We stand in the thorns, yet bloom every time,
Held in the petals, both gentle and fierce,
In the embrace of each other, our souls are pierced.

The gift of receiving, a sacred exchange,
Where love is the language, both wild and unchained,
We witness each other, in light and in shade,
And in this sacred holding, our magic is made.

Through the hands of matriarchs, the world does transform,
With whispers of wisdom, and hearts that are warm,
We change the world, one seed at a time,
In the dance of the sacred, our spirits align.

For sisterhood is the altar where love is unfurled,
And through our shared magic, we heal the world.

 

In the quiet hush of night,
Wrapped in the cocoon’s embrace,
Sacred rest, a tender rite,
In the stillness, find your place.

The dark, a womb, a secret room,
Where the light within you glows,
Silent seeds begin to bloom,
In the shadows, wisdom grows.

Be still, dear soul, and softly breathe,
For in the quiet, you transform,
From the dark, you’ll weave and seethe,
Into light, your true form.

All things bloom from within,
In the silence, power is found,
The metamorphosis begins,
As you rise without a sound.

In the whisper of leaves, the call of the earth,
Plant medicine sings of rebirth.
Its icaros songs, woven deep,
Awaken the soul from its sleep.

Here, where the heart’s frequency flows,
We learn we’re not just here to be those
Who receive love, but to radiate,
To love fiercely, to recreate.

We are the medicine, in every vein,
With love as our purpose, clear and plain.
In every beat, in every breath,
We defy the shadows, the fear, the death.

Bound by the rhythm of a universal song,
Together in this, where we all belong.
We are love, we are one, under sun or moon,
In the dance of stars, in the quiet of noon.

In the woven whispers of ancient Mayan lands,
Wisdom deep as cenotes, held in timeless hands.
They spoke of cycles, of stars, of the soul’s flight,
Where every ending was birth, darkness to light.

Carved in stone, echoed through the dense green,
Messages of connection, seen and unseen.
Life as a lattice of intricate thread,
Souls interwoven from the earth to the cosmic web.

Healing, they taught, comes from within,
A balance of energies where wholeness begins.
With herbs and with chants, with the smoke of copal,
They called on the spirits, sought the ancestors’ thrall.

The jaguar’s stealth in the night, the eagle’s keen sight,
Symbols of power, of courage, of might.
Guiding the spirit, lending the strength to heal,
Embracing the pain, the truths they reveal.

Follow the rhythm of the earth, the pace of the sky,
Listen to the whispers of leaves, and the river’s soft sigh.
The Mayans knew the heart’s echo in the cosmic dance,
In every breath, a chance for the soul’s advance.

So walk gently on earth, with reverence tread,
Each step a prayer, by ancient wisdom led.
For we are part of the weave, the fabric, the song,
In the Mayan’s world, where all souls belong.

From my front door, the dawn delicately dances,
Daybreak’s dew, a series of serene chances.
Birds beckon, boldly breaking silence’s spell,
Chirping, chattering, in the morning they dwell.

Streets stretch silently, scenes seldom seen,
Hushed houses hold histories, what has been.
Trees tower, touching the tranquil sky,
Leaves lingering, longing, not ready to die.

People pass, patterns of past pursuits,
Faces familiar, in their daily routes.
Each echo, every step, stories they spin,
Life’s litany, love’s loss, victory and sin.

The world whispers, within it I wade,
A spectator, speculating, in light and shade.
My view, a vignette of varied hues,
A canvas, continually changing, continually new.

This is the world as I see it, standing at my door,
A blend of the mundane and the folklore.
Repeating rhythms, repeating rhymes,
In the alliteration of these trying times.

Like Bukowski, beholding the brink,
From my threshold, I pause, I think.
In the simplicity of the scene that unfolds,
A story of us, of young and of old.

Through repetition, reality rings,
In alliteration, life’s essence springs.
From my front door, a world revealed,
In its beauty, its pain, perennially sealed.

In the shadowed valleys of my past,
Where echoes of my traumas amassed,
Countless storms sought to quench my light,
To smother my spark in the darkest night.

Beneath the weight of a broken self,
I found something, an ember, a wealth.
Ashes, bitter yet strangely sweet,
In their taste, my fears I’d meet.

From the depths, a phoenix arose,
Fed on pain, on countless woes.
I became the flame, burning bright,
Out of despair, I claimed my right.

The spark that ignited this life of mine,
A glimmer of hope, a divine sign.
Through trials, it was love I saved,
In its warmth, my soul was bathed.

This love, a beacon, fierce and wild,
Guided the steps of the lost child.
Back to myself, to the heart’s true call,
In love, I found the might to stand tall.

The bonfire of my life, now ablaze,
Illuminates the night, defies the haze.
What tried to beat me down, now fuels my rise,
Under the vast, open skies.

That spark, my essence, my core,
A promise of life, of so much more.
Dared to name it, to claim its power,
In its light, I no longer cower.

From spark to flame, from flame to fire,
In every ash, my desires aspire.
To be more than the sum of my scars,
A luminary, among the stars.

The greatest love tale, hidden, unseen,
Was always the journey between you and you, serene.
It was in the solitude of your own stride,
Discovering the burdens you needn’t hide.

It was when you gazed through your own true eyes,
Beyond the reflections of others’ lies.
Finding joy, buried under layers of doubt,
A spark within cynicism, desperately clawing out.

Piece by piece, desire took shape, took form,
In the quiet, away from the storm.
Learning likes, dislikes, the essence of your soul,
Understanding your purpose, your role.

The truest love story, tender, profound,
Was how to your own heart you became UNBOUND.
Opening to yourself, a door, a new start,
The real love story was always the opening of your heart.

I am the blaze, the wild, unbridled flame,
The forest too, vast, never the same.
And in this dance of destruction and birth,
I am the witness to my own earth’s hearth.

Engulfed in the roar, the crackle, the heat,
I stand as the forest, beneath my feet.
Yet within me, the fire rages wide,
A force of nature, impossible to hide.

I watch, I feel, I am both the destroyer and the home,
In this spectacle where flame and life roam.
A cycle of renewal, of loss and of gain,
In the ashes, new life, from the pain.

So here I am, the fire, the forest, the eyes,
A trinity of existence, under open skies.
Witness to my own transformation,
A singular being, a living conflagration.

In the realm where the divine feminine glows,
A mirror most honest, wild, and raw it shows.
Reflecting the depths of our souls, so vast,
A truth so deep, it holds us fast.

The coward, in fear, may turn and flee,
Hiding behind illusions, too blind to see.
But the awakened man, with heart wide open,
Steps into the fray, with hope unbroken.

He tames the dragons that guard his night,
Faces his shadows, his innermost fight.
Guided by the beacon of her heart’s pure light,
Knowing it leads him through the darkest night.

In her reflection, he finds his strength,
To traverse the battle’s breadth and length.
With every step, with every breath,
He moves closer, beyond fear and death.

For in the embrace of the divine feminine’s grace,
He finds his home, his truest place.
Her heart, a compass, steadfast and true,
Guiding him home, through and through.

Through the shards of my own brokenness, I crawled,
Not to settle in mediocrity, not to be appalled.
Each piece, a lesson, a scar, a story untold,
Crafting resilience, a spirit bold.

I’ve walked through fire, I’ve danced in rain,
Transforming agony into a different kind of pain.
One that teaches, that strengthens, that refines,
Turning darkness into a place where light shines.

I did not endure the storms, the tumult, the night,
To embrace a life devoid of fight.
No, I rose from the ashes, with a heart prepared,
For magic, for wonder, for a soul that dared.

So here I stand, at the threshold of the unknown,
With dreams that have through my trials, grown.
Ready for enchantment, for life to unfold,
In colors vibrant, in moments bold.

For I am a creature not of mediocrity, but of fire,
Born of struggle, reaching higher.
In me, the magic has found its home,
In the vast expanse where my thoughts roam.

So let the world watch, let it see,
The magic that resides, that flows, that is me.
For I did not crawl through darkness so deep,
To live a life half-asleep.

No, I am awake, in every sense, every pore,
Ready for magic, for life, for so much more.

Within her chrysalis, a world confined,
A butterfly awaits, her strength to find.
Broken, yet unbowed, by trauma’s deep embrace,
Trapped within herself, a dark, enclosing space.

Yet in her heart, a flicker of a flame,
A pull towards a journey, a calling with no name.
Though bound and blind within her silken cell,
She feels the more beyond her shell.

A knowing deep within her fragile form,
That she is meant for skies, for sunlight warm.
The gravity of instinct, a force so true,
Guides her through the darkness, to break through.

With every struggle, every effort to be free,
She finds the strength she knew was key.
The pressure of her breaking, a painful, needed test,
Strengthens her wings for the journey’s quest.

And then, the moment of triumphant birth,
Breaking free from the confines of the earth.
Her wings unfurl, a sight so grand,
The beautiful actualization of what was planned.

No longer bound, no longer blind,
She dances in the breeze, her past behind.
A symbol of overcoming, of beauty and of grace,
The butterfly soars, her dreams to chase.

In her flight, a story told,
Of transformation, bold and bold.
From darkness to the light she wings,
A testament to the strength within.

In the morning’s embrace, with plant medicine’s grace,
I found solace, a quiet space.
Spent the day in my swing, gently rocked,
In warmth of my blanket, securely locked.

Life’s tapestry, messy and wild,
Demons haunt, both fierce and mild.
Yet in this pursuit of rest, I find my quest,
Amidst the chaos, in tranquility’s nest.

Held by warmth, by comfort’s gentle hand,
In this moment, quietly I stand.
Though life’s storms around me persist,
In my pursuit of peace, I insist.

Wrinkles etched from life’s hearty laughs,
A map of joy in each crease that crafts.
Sunspots, like kisses from the sky,
Memories of days under the sun’s loving eye.

Gray hair, a crown of wisdom, time’s gentle gift,
A privilege denied to many, spirits to uplift.
Stretch marks, the art of creating life within,
A testament to strength, love’s true skin.

Scars, each a story of survival, of battles won,
Marks of resilience, under moon and sun.

Be heavy in the water, let it carry your weight,
In the womb of the world, find your fate.
A warm embrace that knows no end,
Celebrate each curve, each bend.

Rest in the knowing, you are a universe entire,
In every flaw, every mark, there’s a fire.
A story of laughter, of love, of strife,
In every scar, the beauty of life.

Water on skin, a caress so deep,
Wombing, enveloping, in its sweep.
A sanctuary in each droplet’s embrace,
Welcoming, a tender, fluid space.

In the flow, pleasure unfurls,
A dance of ripples, a swirl of pearls.
Yet within its depths, pain might also brew,
A testament to the spectrum of being, ever true.

May it wash over you, a cleansing tide,
Carrying both joy and ache in stride.
In its embrace, find release, find ease,
May it be everything you need, a peace.

Let the water speak, in whispers, in roars,
Guiding you through its myriad doors.
In each ebb, in each flow, find your story told,
May it be everything you need, in its fold.

In the sacred whispers of the feminine divine,
Lies the womb, the sacred chalice, the eternal shrine.

A bridge of life, woven with threads of moonlight,
Spanning the gap between the mortal and the infinite flight.

The seasons of the year, a grand tapestry unfold,
Mirroring the womb cycle, a story told.

Spring’s gentle bloom, the maiden’s shy embrace,
Summer’s full glory, the mother’s loving face.
Fall whispers of decline, the crone’s wise descent,
Winter’s rest, a silent, profound assent.

In her bowl of light, the spark of creation dances,
A universe of potential, a myriad of chances.

The maiden, in her innocence, a journey begins,
A path of discovery, of joys and sins.

The mother, in her fullness, a force of love, life, and care,
Nurturing the seeds of tomorrow, with wisdom to share.

The crone, in her wisdom, a guide to the end,
Her insights, her lessons, an ancient friend.

Through the cycle of life, death, and rebirth,
She embodies the transitions, the cycles of Earth.

In the sacred feminine, a power so profound,
A mystery deep, in the heart’s sacred ground.
She is the keeper of cycles, of death and of birth,
A bridge between heaven, and our Mother Earth.

In the sacred glow of twilight’s embrace,
A bowl of light, in the quiet space,
Becomes alive with each tender touch,
In encounters that whisper, “Feel life so much.”

The caress of a breeze, the warmth of the sun,
Moments fleeting, yet feeling like none.
In the depth of connection, in the meeting of eyes,
The bowl of light within, brightly it lies.

With every heartbeat, with every breath,
Awakening senses, defying death.
In the dance of shadows, in the play of light,
Feeling life fully, in day and in night.

The bowl of light, a vessel so true,
Filled with the essence, the beauty, the hue,
Of life in its fullness, in its pain and its pleasure,
Each moment, each encounter, a memory to treasure.

In the sacred dance, in the gentle fight,
Embracing the darkness, adoring the light,
The bowl of light within, glowing so bright,
Alive through encounters, feeling life with all might.

I am here for bare-soul conversations and honest feelings—
To spill my heart and put myself out there,
To never regret what I didn’t do, what I didn’t say.
I walk toward what calls to me, say yes to what excites me,
Following the path led by my beating heart.

I’m here to push the edges of my limits,
To expand my definition of what’s possible,
To find out how far I can go if I don’t give up on myself.
I notice the world around me, see the magic in the sky,
In the wind, in my breath, in every person who surrounds me.

I feel the invisible thread connecting me and you,
And the stars and all of this.
I breathe love, purpose, and passion
Into the things that make me grateful to be alive.
I feel what it means to be human—
To know joy, gratitude, heartbreak, and grief like old friends.

I cultivate peace and love within myself,
Give with the overflow so that everyone I meet
Knows they’re seen, heard, felt, and loved.
I create a life I can look back upon,
Feel so incredibly grateful that I didn’t hide—
That I took the risks and followed my own path,
Creating something beautiful with these hands,
This body, this stubborn heart.

Every shaky and imperfect step forward on my heart-led path—
It was worth it.
Every breath, every heartbeat, every time I looked up at the sky,
Trusted in the promise of something more I couldn’t see,
But felt deep within me—
It was worth everything.

Oh, be so fiercely, authentically you!
Wear joy as your cloak, your spectrum, your hue.
Find that rhythm, your very own beat,
In the dance of the daring, life is sweet.

Sing out loud with the music of your soul,
Be the light that makes others whole.
Unique in your essence, rare in your glow,
A color in the human spectrum, stealing the show.

Water yourself, grow lush, grow wild,
Nurture your spirit, embrace the inner child.
Your light, a beacon in the dim,
An endless love that fills to the brim.

So embrace all your ‘ness, your mess, your fire,
You gorgeous human, ignite our desire!
In the gallery of life, you’re the masterpiece,
In the art of being you, never cease.

Love them as they stand, in their imperfect grace,
Watch as acceptance washes over their face.
No conditions, no changes, just pure and true,
See how they flourish, becoming anew.

In the garden of your regard, they grow,
Into their greatest self, under love’s glow.
Transformed by the nurture of your heart’s embrace,
They unfold into their truest form, a radiant ace.

So go forth, and with love’s gentle art,
Embrace them wholly, every part.
And marvel as they, in their own unique way,
Blossom into brilliance, day by day.

My body, a canvas, painted with desire,
Has it been allowed to set the world on fire?
Or have I, in moments of doubt and of fear,
Contorted and conditioned it, until the soul’s whispers I barely hear?

This vessel of mine, with its scars and its tales,
Chronic illnesses, a testament; in its details,
A story of survival, of battles unseen,
Embodied experiences, places I’ve been.

How I occur in the world, my posture, my stance,
Every gesture, every move, not just happenstance.
Do they reflect my soul, its essence, its core?
Or is it a façade, nothing more?

Yet, in my reflection, I seek and I find,
A resonance, a connection, between body and mind.
For every ailment, every pain that I bear,
Speaks of the soul’s journey, its wear and its tear.

My body, an archive of desires suppressed,
Of dreams unfulfilled, of quests unaddressed.
Yet, also of joy, of love’s tender touch,
In its authenticity, it reveals so much.

So, let this be my artifact, my song,
A reflection on where my soul and body belong.
An acknowledgment of their intricate dance,
A testament to giving desire a chance.

For in the end, my body and soul,
Are not adversaries, but halves of a whole.
In their unity, I find my true depiction,
A harmonious blend, free from contradiction.

So, I honor my body, my soul’s faithful mirror,
Embracing its messages, now clearer.
For it is in this acceptance, this heartfelt embrace,
That I find my truth, my soul’s resting place.

I am an artist, true and deep,
Each page I pen, from soul’s well steep.
My words, a bridge from heart to page,
A part of me, my life, my sage.

Surprise alights on faces when revealed,
Threads by my own hands are weaved.
Not a task, nor a means to some distant end,
But a gift to the world, my literary blend.

A legacy of letters, a beacon bright,
Calling to those who share my sight.
To those destined to cross my path in life’s dance,
In words, we find our shared glance.

Gratitude fills me for each word you read,
For comments, shares, in you, my creed.
This matters, in depths untold,
And in your caring, my story unfolds.

To know it resonates, in your heart too,
Brings joy profound, and connection true.

In the morning’s embrace, with plant medicine’s grace,
I found solace, a quiet space.
Spent the day in my swing, gently rocked,
In warmth of my blanket, securely locked.

Life’s tapestry, messy and wild,
Demons haunt, both fierce and mild.
Yet in this pursuit of rest, I find my quest,
Amidst the chaos, in tranquility’s nest.

Held by warmth, by comfort’s gentle hand,
In this moment, quietly I stand.
Though life’s storms around me persist,
In my pursuit of peace, I insist.

In the shadowed valley, where silence speaks,
Through the thorns, a tender soul seeks.
Wounded whispers in the night,
A journey from darkness to light.

Beneath the scars, a hidden door,
To realms uncharted, core to core.
Where tears are seeds, and pain, the soil,
From which blooms strength, born of turmoil.

In the hush of breaking dawn,
Emerges a spirit, both weary and drawn.
Yet within her eyes, a fierce glow,
A testament to the battles below.

Through the tempest, she carves a path,
A testament to her unyielded wrath.
Not against the world, so cruel and stark,
But for her light, to ignite the dark.

With every step, a piece reclaimed,
Of a soul, once unnamed.
For in the deepest, darkest night,
She found within her, an endless light.

A pilgrimage to the sacred self,
Where all her fears come to be dealt.
In this sanctuary, she gently learns,
The power of the tide as it turns.

The bravest journey, it is said,
Is the one that goes within, to tread.
To face the storm, to embrace the night,
And in the darkness, find your light.

This is the dance of the deeply brave,
A path of healing, wave by wave.
Where every scar tells a story true,
Of a battle fought, and a life anew.

So she stands, in the light of her dawn,
A testament to all she has drawn.
From the depths of night, her soul does sing,
Of the courage found in embracing everything.

Wrinkles etched from life’s hearty laughs,
A map of joy in each crease that crafts.
Sunspots, like kisses from the sky,
Memories of days under the sun’s loving eye.

Gray hair, a crown of wisdom, time’s gentle gift,
A privilege denied to many, spirits to uplift.
Stretch marks, the art of creating life within,
A testament to strength, love’s true skin.

Scars, each a story of survival, of battles won,
Marks of resilience, under moon and sun.

Be heavy in the water, let it carry your weight,
In the womb of the world, find your fate.
A warm embrace that knows no end,
Celebrate each curve, each bend.

Rest in the knowing, you are a universe entire,
In every flaw, every mark, there’s a fire.
A story of laughter, of love, of strife,
In every scar, the beauty of life.

Water on skin, a caress so deep,
Wombing, enveloping, in its sweep.
A sanctuary in each droplet’s embrace,
Welcoming, a tender, fluid space.

In the flow, pleasure unfurls,
A dance of ripples, a swirl of pearls.
Yet within its depths, pain might also brew,
A testament to the spectrum of being, ever true.

May it wash over you, a cleansing tide,
Carrying both joy and ache in stride.
In its embrace, find release, find ease,
May it be everything you need, a peace.

Let the water speak, in whispers, in roars,
Guiding you through its myriad doors.
In each ebb, in each flow, find your story told,
May it be everything you need, in its fold.

In the sacred whispers of the feminine divine,
Lies the womb, the sacred chalice, the eternal shrine.

A bridge of life, woven with threads of moonlight,
Spanning the gap between the mortal and the infinite flight.

The seasons of the year, a grand tapestry unfold,
Mirroring the womb cycle, a story told.

Spring’s gentle bloom, the maiden’s shy embrace,
Summer’s full glory, the mother’s loving face.
Fall whispers of decline, the crone’s wise descent,
Winter’s rest, a silent, profound assent.

In her bowl of light, the spark of creation dances,
A universe of potential, a myriad of chances.

The maiden, in her innocence, a journey begins,
A path of discovery, of joys and sins.

The mother, in her fullness, a force of love, life, and care,
Nurturing the seeds of tomorrow, with wisdom to share.

The crone, in her wisdom, a guide to the end,
Her insights, her lessons, an ancient friend.

Through the cycle of life, death, and rebirth,
She embodies the transitions, the cycles of Earth.

In the sacred feminine, a power so profound,
A mystery deep, in the heart’s sacred ground.
She is the keeper of cycles, of death and of birth,
A bridge between heaven, and our Mother Earth.

In the sacred glow of twilight’s embrace,
A bowl of light, in the quiet space,
Becomes alive with each tender touch,
In encounters that whisper, “Feel life so much.”

The caress of a breeze, the warmth of the sun,
Moments fleeting, yet feeling like none.
In the depth of connection, in the meeting of eyes,
The bowl of light within, brightly it lies.

With every heartbeat, with every breath,
Awakening senses, defying death.
In the dance of shadows, in the play of light,
Feeling life fully, in day and in night.

The bowl of light, a vessel so true,
Filled with the essence, the beauty, the hue,
Of life in its fullness, in its pain and its pleasure,
Each moment, each encounter, a memory to treasure.

In the sacred dance, in the gentle fight,
Embracing the darkness, adoring the light,
The bowl of light within, glowing so bright,
Alive through encounters, feeling life with all might.

Ocean’s gentle sigh,
Moonlight dances, whispers nigh,
Peace beneath the sky.

Embrace the weight of being,
Be heavy, be light,
Dance on the spectrum of existence,
Be everything you wish,
Or vanish into the nothingness of your whims.

Wander in your desires,
Meander through the forests of your whims,
Go back and forth, a pendulum of passion,
Declare war on the constraints,
Say to hell with it.

In the throes of liberation,
Unleash the tempest of your essence,
Fuck your brains out,
In the carnal embrace, find transcendence.

Feel everything,
Let the tapestry of emotions envelop you,
Be wobbly at the knees,
Surrender to the quake of true connection.

Love wildly,
With a heart untamed,
Dive into the depths,
Then, come back down to earth.

Breathe again,
Inhale the essence of the cosmos,
Smile at the simplicity,
Laugh at the complexity.

Hold your own counsel,
In the silence, find your truth,
In the cacophony, know your peace,
Be, unapologetically, profoundly,
You.

⁃ Sarah

In her depths, a storm,
Ocean’s tears, relentless pour—
His calm, sea floor warms.

Waves crash, in passion’s play,
Her wildness, he does sway,
In depths where secrets lay.

Together, merge as one,
Underneath the burning sun,
Healing has begun.

⁃ me

To love is to stand defiant
Against the quiet whispers of the end,
A silent rebellion against the inexorable,
Denying death its claim with each breath shared,
Each touch a testament to permanence
In the face of impermanence.

To fully live is to slip through the reaper’s fingers,
A dance in the spaces between moments,
Where every heartbeat is a victory,
A sprint through fields untouched by shadows,
Embracing the sun,
Outrunning the night that follows all.

To embody every experience is to weave
The essence of existence into the fabric of our being,
A tapestry rich with the hues of every emotion,
Felt deeply, savored fully.
It is to drink from the cup of life
With an insatiable thirst,
To feast upon the world’s bounty,
Knowing each morsel is finite yet infinite in its beauty.

In this embrace of life, death becomes but a horizon,
Ever present yet always at bay.
For in the act of living fully,
Loving deeply,
Experiencing completely,
We become immortal within the confines of our mortality,
A paradox wrapped in the truth of our existence.

We become sacred

⁃ me

In the quiet dusk of her own being,
A woman walks the path to self-seeing.
Healing the little girl within, so scared, so small,
Whispering love and courage, catching her before she falls.

This journey, a pilgrimage to the soul’s own land,
Healing her heart with her own tender hand.
Once a wife, bound by society’s heavy chains,
She unravels the lies, the silent pains.

Finding freedom within her own skin,
Discovering liberation has always been within.
Unbound by scars that once defined her map,
Unchained from the bondage, society’s trap.

Contracts, marriage, the lies that were told,
She sheds them like leaves, bold and bold.
Emerging unbound, in her essence, pure and raw,
Finding strength in every flaw.

Living fully herself, in a world she holds dear,
Embracing her journey, without fear.
A world she loves with all her heart,
Now plays the stage for her brand new start.

In her, a universe of possibilities unfurl,
A woman coming home, in her, the world.

Water on skin, a caress so deep,
Wombing, enveloping, in its sweep.
A sanctuary in each droplet’s embrace,
Welcoming, a tender, fluid space.

In the flow, pleasure unfurls,
A dance of ripples, a swirl of pearls.
Yet within its depths, pain might also brew,
A testament to the spectrum of being, ever true.

May it wash over you, a cleansing tide,
Carrying both joy and ache in stride.
In its embrace, find release, find ease,
May it be everything you need, a peace.

Let the water speak, in whispers, in roars,
Guiding you through its myriad doors.
In each ebb, in each flow, find your story told,
May it be everything you need, in its fold.

In the quiet corners of my mind,
Your images linger, undefined.
Each a melody, a note unsung,
Inspiring breaths from lungs once wrung.

Music, that word, it whispers true,
The effect, profound, a muse like you.
A symphony in every glance,
In every sorrow, every dance.

Even when the night is long,
And shadows cast doubt, strong.
Your essence, a beacon, bright and bold,
In the story your silence told.

Heartbroken, yet beautifully so,
A paradox only the broken know.
Cracked wide open, a vessel bare,
Releasing what’s hidden there.

For this, I stand in quiet awe,
For what I’ve heard, for what I saw.
In your breaking, a gift, profound,
In your silence, a song resound.

Thankful, for the muse in you,
For the music and the hues of blue.
In your fracture, light does seep,
A lullaby, for those who weep.

So here I am, forever bound,
To the melody found in your sound.
A muse, not just a fleeting spark,
But the light that sings within the dark.

Can’t quite take my eyes away,
You are inspiring, a melody in the fray.
Music, that’s the word that echoes true,
A revelation in the hues of you.

How intriguing, that word,
It makes sense now, undeterred.
The effect a muse can wield,
In the silent spaces, unsealed.

Music, the way the muse sings her song,
Even when her heart doesn’t belong.
Heartbroken, yet broken open,
A vessel for the words unspoken.

For the release of what’s inside,
In this, I find a grateful tide.
For what you’ve unlocked within,
A symphony of what might have been.

In this realm, you are every shade of divine,
A goddess who defies the confines of the line.
From the huntress, with her silent, lethal grace,
To the mother, a beacon of love, a nurturing space.

You shift, a coquette with a playful, teasing light,
Then a temptress, veiled in mystery, cloaked in night.
As the tempest, you roar, a great and powerful storm,
Then the sea itself, vast, deep, a form that’s far from norm.

A waif, in moments, your vulnerability laid bare,
To wanton pleasure, unabashed, a soul stripped rare.
You embody bounty, an abundance that overflows,
A desire for more, a yearning that ceaselessly grows.

What an extravagant feast for the eyes, a sight so rare,
In you, every essence of goddess, beyond compare.

My LIFE JOURNEY:

The Elora Experience™:

A luxury business mastermind retreat for diverse female founders, combining transformative workshops and cultural exploration in Europe. Fully sponsored opportunities available for select participants.

Elora Excursions™:

Global retreats for 7- and 8-figure entrepreneurs. These holistic journeys blend cutting-edge business mentorship with wellness, fostering meaningful connections and transformative growth.

The Elora Collective™:

Launching soon, a SaaS-powered online membership platform offering exclusive access to Sarah’s teachings, guides, and community programs.

The Elora™ Wearable Tech:

A luxury frequency-healing device merging health insights with sustainable design. Crafted for the modern entrepreneur seeking harmony in health, fashion, and technology.

Elora Estate™:

A 6,500-acre wellness sanctuary in the Appalachian Mountains, blending regenerative farming, eco-luxury, and holistic well-being. This sanctuary will host exclusive retreats and community programs.

The 1111 Foundation:

Continuing its mission to empower diverse founders with grants, mentorship, and resources, supporting impactful projects globally.

I GUIDE WOMEN BECAUSE:

I wish I had a healer at the beginning of my journey who treated me like a best friend.

Someone who had sage advice but also met me where I was along the way. Someone who held my hand as I cried on the cold floor. Someone who showed me my gifts  are precious and to be embraced. A friend who cut through the BS of the surface level stuff. Someone who got straight to the deep and unspoken truths of the universe.

Someone to say, “this shit is about to get real!” And, “I’m right here with you.”

The person to hold me as I cried and guide me to piece myself back together. The person to say 

“I too know what this is like…”

the mother I was 10 years ago needed someone like me.

The uphill battles I faced and the ones to come almost crushed me as a mother. HG, PPMD, prolapse, true knots, miscarriages, mastitis, colic, seizures, special needs. Navigating so much of it in the “should” and “must”.  I know what it’s like to raise a child alone due to military deployment. To feel the sting of motherhood without a tribe.  I know what it’s like to birth 4 beautiful humans and to not birth two I was expecting. I know what it’s like to receive a cancer diagnosis with three small children and wonder what their lives will be like without me. To then go through sepsis, toxic mold, and severe Lyme disease years later. To write a living will for my children. Fight with the Universe to stay for them. To beg to live everyday with them. And to win.

I know the true depths of isolation

I know what it means to be raised with a chronic illness and told I’d never be a Mother. I’d never be successful. The lies the world puts on us. How isolating trauma becomes. I know what it means to thrive after trauma. I know what it means to RISE. I know what it means to survive rape alone. I know what it’s like to fight for a marriage to a man plagued by the demons of war. To choose him and fight along side of him for his life. I know what it’s like to try to thrive in a life that is overwhelming because of doing all the supposed to’s. I know what it’s like to fight for this body, this life, to stay here!!! I know what it is like to choose a life that no one understands and build my own tribe. To save myself. To save my children. To save my family. To enjoy this life fully and freely.

Those moments were heart wrenching. And I was blessed to survive.

A Sacred Life, A Sacred Mission

Every part of my life is rooted in the sacred; from the way I parent my children to the way I guide my clients. My home is filled with laughter, love, and the lessons of conscious motherhood. My work is grounded in the belief that witnessing someone’s journey is the highest form of love. And my soul’s mission is to support others in coming home to themselves, creating capacity in their lives, and ascending in all areas; business, relationships, and personal growth.

This is not just my work, it is my calling. And I am deeply honored to share it with you.

Are you ready to step into alignment and create the life and business of your dreams?

Let’s co-create something extraordinary.

About Sarah Elora

Sarah Elora is an internationally renowned business coach, author, and podcast host who has guided multiple 7-figure entrepreneurs to scale their businesses and align with their highest potential. 

A proud mother of four, Sarah blends her powerful journey of conscious motherhood with her mission to empower dynamic leaders, unlocking their sacred purpose and fostering inclusivity in the business world.

With over a decade of experience, Sarah is more than just an “Intuitive Business and Spiritual Mentor.” 

Her expertise spans a diverse array of credentials, including certifications in Reiki, Holistic Nutrition, Breathwork, NLP, and Master Level Professional Coaching. She is also a double 200-hour Registered Yoga Teacher specializing in Yin Yoga and Yoga Nidra.

Sarah’s approach transcends traditional coaching by seamlessly integrating holistic wellness, spiritual empowerment, and business mentoring. From the inception of her transformative brand, Raw As A Mother, to the evolution of The Elora Empress, Sarah has redefined mentorship for entrepreneurs seeking to balance growth with authenticity and alignment. Her programs, from one-on-one mentorship to retreats, consistently sell out, a testament to the life-changing impact she delivers.

Beyond her work with individuals, Sarah co-founded The 1111 Foundation Inc., a philanthropic venture capital fund dedicated to supporting inclusive and impactful business leaders. As the foundation’s President and Director of Mentorship, Sarah stands as a beacon of leadership and allyship, helping visionaries create businesses that embody purpose and progress.

Through her unique blend of business acumen, spiritual insight, and unwavering dedication, Sarah Elora continues to inspire and uplift entrepreneurs, mothers, and leaders around the world.

I CREATED MY DREAM LIFE.

I was bedridden for months and in that time I created. I soaked in my family. I envisioned my life and path before me. As I came out of my darkest hour, I was faced with my parent’s mortality as they were both hospitalized. My mother came home, my father did not. 

I had to face the mirroring of everything I had just been through to save my own life. I was grateful that my body was strong enough to spend day in and day out in end of life care for my father. To comfort him. To fight for him. To open the realms and ascend him. To accept my role as the open channel, the bridge, and be willing to witness the sacredness of death. The mirror to birth. The creation of life anew, out of this realm, into a new transformation. This is the highest honor of this life.

What the rapid loss of my health, loss of my father, my dearest best friend, it has taught me, even when our lives are going well, it can all come crashing down in an instant. Life is this precious experience we ask to come here for. We contract to be in this body, in this time, with these people, to fulfill our purpose. The heaviness of this world, the suffering, it can overwhelm and cause us to forget what we came here for, what we came to experience, to be a part of.

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