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I try to catch you, but you slip from my fingers

Like the salty water of an ocean’s throw

Photo by Irene Morgan



Nana Tomova's profound delving into the labyrinths of her life experience portray a soul at the confines of both anguish and enlightenment. She invites us, as fellow travellers on her voyage, to discover ever unfolding truths, which are peeling off like damp pages of a precious book, caught in the rainstorm of her questioning existence.


You look at me with your face of stone

Wrinkled crevices overfilling with wisdom;

What you hold I do not know

Yet I know the power you hold over me.


I walk your surface giving thanks for being able to touch your wounds.

I breathe in deeply the pines you have birthed.


I admire the flutter of the butterfly’s wings

The song of the cricket,

The dance of the lizard.

The grace of the deer which revealed itself to me.


Soul does not speak in words

Soul speaks clearly through you.

Photo by Irene Morgan


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