My Sanctuary

Rocks, candles, etc.

By Harper Lewis Published 11 months ago • Updated 11 months ago • 1 min read

windowsill above my bathtub

I love my bathtub: candles, crystals, incense and magical things fill my space

There’s a glass vase with sand and shells from my dad’s last sandcastle, the one I built around his ashes to give him back to the ocean.

Obelisks stand tall in my windowsill.

A fairy observes a cascading fountain

A Tibetan healing bowl turns my pained strikes into healing tones of harmony.

A goddess observes the sanctuary I created for myself.

The moon, ever changing, rests between candles.

My Master’s degree in English literature hangs where I can see it while I recline under more moons than two.

Geology was my lab science in undergrad; my rocks ground me.

I love nothing better than a rainy day in my cauldron, except perhaps a starry moonlit night.

But something even better happened today:

Intrusive rhyme bothers me, except as a weapon.

Intertextuality is my passion.

Formalist/ New Critical are my guiding theories.

My words are mine, not a robot’s.

MA English literature, CofC

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