liv ross

Liv is an urban monk, a poet, a birder, and a student of Christian Spirituality. She has been engaged in creative writing more or less consistently for two decades and poetry is her primary medium. When she’s not writing, Liv practices gardening, pipe-smoking, leather-working, and mischief. She has been published in Loft Books, The Blue Daisies Journal, The Way Back To Ourselves, Silence and Starsong, Vessels of Light and VoeglinView. She can be found on Instagram @liv_ross_poetry, twitter @je_suis_liv, or her substack, https://substack.com/@theabbeyofcuriosity.

vessel

Take me in, out of the sun.

Move me like the gentle wind.

Here I stand, ready to fall,

If you’ll shape me, once again.

In place of sun, a glowing lamp.

I’m split and splintered from myself.

In place of wind, woodcutter's breath,

To scatter shaved and chipped remains.

The layers slowly stripped from me

Until I wonder, what is left?

Then scored by knife and sealed by fire,

I see the shape that’s left of me.

Hollow bowl of heartwood,

Deeply carved and cavernous.

On the side a little spout.

Springs come forth, spilling out.

Read Liv’s work and more in Solum Journal Volume V (forthcoming).