Stories, Reflections & Music

  • The Weaver’s Fire

    The Weaver’s Fire

    No one saw the fire begin. One moment, the evening was quiet—the last rays of sun slipping like soft fingers across the square. The next, flames were climbing the roof of the Weaver’s hut, as though the sky itself had breathed down a spark.

    The villagers ran at once, buckets in hand, but their efforts were small and slow against the hunger of the blaze. When at last the fire burned itself out and the embers lay cooling, the hut was gone. The great Loom—the one no one but the Weaver had ever dared to touch—was gone too. And the Weaver herself: vanished, her body never found. (more…)

  • What We Lose — and Gain — in the Underworld

    What We Lose — and Gain — in the Underworld

    Something I’ve been mulling over:

    Much of our world today speaks the language of Reason—facts, logic, proofs.
    It is a powerful and necessary tongue.
    It has built bridges, cured diseases, carried us into the stars.

    But it is not the only language we need.
    (more…)

  • This Too Shall Pass

    This Too Shall Pass

    There was once a stonemason who lived at the edge of a wind-swept land where nothing stayed the same for long. The river shifted its course each season. The dunes crawled across the plain like great, lumbering beasts. Even the stars overhead seemed to shimmer with uncertainty.

    The people of the land built with haste and little hope — they expected things to fall apart. And of course they did.

    But Elyas, the stonemason, carved each stone with the care of one who believed it mattered. He never hurried. His walls held longer than most, but still, in time, even his finest arches cracked, even his best-laid foundations shifted.
    (more…)

  • The Weeping Cave

    The Weeping Cave

    Long ago—or perhaps only yesterday—a sorrowful soul had sealed himself inside a cave. At least that was the story. Some claimed he had been wronged, exiled unjustly. Others whispered that he had chosen his own exile, unable to bear what he had done, or failed to do. Over time, the tale became a warning: enter not the hollow where despair keeps watch. (more…)

  • The Letter Without Ink

    The Letter Without Ink

    A young woman tried to write a letter to her dying father.

    She meant to say everything. (more…)

  • The Garden of Perhaps

    The Garden of Perhaps

    What grows in the quiet spaces between thoughts?

    This is The Garden of Perhaps — a contemplative video with original music, and a poetic reflection.
    (more…)

  • Moving the Immovable

    Moving the Immovable

    MP3 Narration with Music:

    The drought had lasted longer than anyone in the village could remember. Cracked earth stretched as far as the eye could see — the fields brittle and gray. The stream—once lively and clear—was now a mere trickle, barely enough to fill cupped hands. (more…)

  • The Cup of Fire

    The Cup of Fire

    Sorin was mending fishing nets when he heard the first shouts of anger. He turned toward the square and saw Marek storming forward, fists clenched. Marek, whose rage had been boiling for weeks after his younger brother was found murdered along the road.
    A crime with no culprit. Not even any clues.

    And now, a foreigner had arrived. (more…)

  • The Trickster’s Mirror

    The Trickster’s Mirror

    At dusk, as the last rays of sunlight painted the town square in gold and violet, a traveler arrived. He wore a cloak woven from mismatched fabrics, each patch a different color, and his sharp eyes glimmered with something between amusement and knowing. He carried little, save for a tall mirror framed in wood so aged it seemed as if it had always been there. (more…)

  • The Magpie Maze

    The Magpie Maze

    In the desert city of Lenar, there was a rope-maker named Jaya who crafted the strongest ropes in the region. Her ropes secured merchant caravans, anchored desert sails, and even hoisted the palace’s golden chandelier. But for all her skill, Jaya had one relentless enemy: the sand magpies. (more…)