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Circles on the Water

Posted on by Kerri Elizabeth

“Every ripple begins in silence, yet carries further than the eye can see.”

The cove had grown quieter, though the memory of voices lingered like the aftertaste of summer. A single splash broke the surface, spreading circles out into the stillness, carrying the night’s echoes further than intended. In the distance, laughter rose and fell, as if carried on the wind from a gathering already dissolving into memory. The water revealed what the voices tried to hide, how quickly joy could ripple into unease, how quickly the world reminded you that nothing was ever just surface.

The circles widened, crossing into one another, colliding, breaking apart, reforming. That is how whispers move. That is how truths travel.

Circles widened, one after another,

meeting in silence where voices falter.

Every echo pressed into the cove,

carrying secrets the night could not hold.

What begins in play does not stay contained,

even still water remembers the sounds.

-Kerri-Elizabeth-

But when the next circle broke the surface, it wasn’t laughter that carried with it, it was something else, something no one wanted spoken aloud.

The Wedding Next Door

Posted on by Kerri Elizabeth

“Not every wall is built of stone. Some are stitched in silence.”

Through the green veil of hedges,

laughter spills like champagne,

music drifts over water dressed in light,

and satin skirts sweep across the grass

as if the earth beneath them

has never trembled.

It looks like joy from a distance.

It always does.

But I have learned

that some celebrations are sewn

with hidden thread,

pulled tight by unseen hands.

There is a way shadows move through a crowd

quiet weaving,

like scales brushing against silk,

never noticed by the ones

who clap the loudest.

We stand in the space

between knowing and speaking,

on our side of the wall,

watching the choreography unfold

without a single step meant for us.

The air feels heavy

with unsaid things,

but the sun still lays its gold

across the water,

reminding me

there is always light

beyond the tangle of branches.

Some stories take years to write.

Some are already written and only need the light to find them.

This one has been threading itself through many summers, people and places.

And writing unravels pain

~Kerri-Elizabeth~

This post marks the beginning of a new series—a weaving of poetry, story, and healing that will slowly unfold in the months ahead. Each piece will carry both the rawness of truth and the light of perspective, inviting you to walk with me through shadows and sunrises, uncovering what has been hidden, holding space for what has been lost, and discovering the quiet strength that rises in the telling. This is the start of an unraveling, one thread at a time.