“Light speaks first in a whisper, it does not scream.”
Edges blur, then soften,
light plays across the lake, like a fine tuned harp.
Truth reveals itself without demand,
its presence felt, while anticipating its conversation.
No hurry in its revealing,
no fear in what is found,
the heart learns to awaken,
to peace singing brilliant sounds.
-Kerri-Elizabeth-
By tomorrow, the whisper of light will touch places that once hid in shade.
“Revelation is not sudden, it is the slow kindness of light finding its way through.”
Morning came quiet but different. The fog that had held the cove in its arms began to thin, revealing outlines that had long been hidden. Nothing startling, just a soft unveiling, like the world remembering its own shape.
In that return of clarity was a gentle reminder: truth doesn’t rush. It waits for readiness. The same stillness that once felt heavy now shimmered with invitation. Leaves glistened with dew, each one a mirror of change already underway.
There was peace in not needing every answer yet. The unveiling itself was enough.
-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, the fog will rise , and what stands in full view may ask to be seen differently.
“Cleansing is not letting go of love, it is making room for it to move more freely.”
This week was not loud, or easy. It was a week of walking gently through silence, noticing what lingers and what begins to stir. The reflected stillness, yet stillness itself was full of memory, of love, of truths preparing to step into the light.
October asks for cleansing. It asks for a slowing down, to feel what has been carried, to honor transitions, ours and others, without any added definition or judgements. It invites strength through softness, courage through listening, and healing through awareness.
Even in silence, there is motion. Even in waiting, there is growth, even in absence, love is the presence that carries it all.
-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Next week, October’s stillness will meet October’s unveiling, and the light will not be held back.
“What lies beneath is part of the journey, it teaches us how we trust the unseen.”
Leaves fall across the pathway,
a softness to the cover,
they whisper with each footstep,
you’ve carried this so long.
The cover is not hiding wonder,
its revealing more is there, right under.
What is there is soon uncovered,
as the winds reminisce with the seasons of thunder.
-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, the week will close, and October’s cover will turn into October’s unveiling.
“What is hidden is not gone, it waits to be revealed in time.”
The path along the cove disappeared beneath fallen leaves. Yet anyone who had walked it before knew it was still there. Hidden, yes. Erased, no.
October does this, it covers what is known, so that discovery can happen again. It invites patience, a slowing down, an awareness that not everything is meant to be seen all at once.
Walking the covered path became an act of trust. Each step pressed into leaves that whispered: truth cannot stay buried forever. It will rise when the season is right.
-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, the path will clear a little more, what will you see differently?
“Light never leaves, it shifts, it softens, it guides.”
A glow in the distance,
its flame teases, dim then bright,
a steady kind of whisper,
that warms the edge of night.
It doesn’t chase the shadows,
it doesn’t force them gone,
it simply keeps on shining,
like a quiet guiding song.
-Kerri-Elizabeth-
By tomorrow, the glow will meet the horizon, and the horizon will answer back.
“Physical absence does not move love away, it shows us how deeply it remains.”
October always arrived carrying lanterns unseen. They glowed quietly, guiding steps through the fog, reminding that presence is not limited to what we touch.
The lanterns belonged to memory, to love that had shifted form, to a connection that time could not unravel. Even as years moved faster than seemed possible, love remained steady. Each flame flickered with guidance, urging forward without losing what had been.
The month is not heavy in despair, but rich in reflection. It asks for slowing down, for honoring what cannot be replaced, for finding strength not by resisting, but by walking with it.
-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, the lanterns will stretch their glow further, casting gentle light into hidden corners.
“Stillness holds the softest truths, if we dare to listen.”
The quiet is not hollow,
it hums beneath the air,
a gentle kind of holding,
a presence always there.
No need for sharp reminders,
the silence speaks enough,
in stillness hearts grow softer,
in waiting we find trust.
-Kerri-Elizabeth-
By tomorrow, the stillness will shift into a light that cannot be ignored.
“Silence does not mean nothing is happening, quite the opposite.”
October opened with a heaviness, not loud, not rushed, but dense as fog pressed against the cove. The silence was misleading. It seemed still, but beneath it, movement gathered, papers shuffled behind closed doors, decisions were being made in rooms unseen.
Life on the surface looked the same, driveways quiet, doors closed, familiar cars passing by with eyes fixed forward. Not confrontation, not kindness, just avoidance. In some ways, it was easier that way, silence was less piercing. But silence has its own edge, and it reminds you to listen deeper.
Waiting can feel endless. But October has its way of reminding all senses, nothing is truly still. Branches bend, shadows lengthen, and tides always shift. The question is not if movement comes, movement is part of stillness, it is in the beat of every heart while stillness is working. It is the pulse of life all around while stillness is practiced, stillness does not work alone, it works with the gratitude that both can be felt at the same time.
-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, the silence will feel different, the air is changing and the stillness is surrounded by movement. Do you notice the movement around you when you are still or in stillness do you tune out movement around you?
“The fog does not hide the truth, it prepares us to see it.”
This week lingered like a held breath. Fog rolled across the cove, concealing yet never erasing, pressing the truth into stillness until the time to reveal arrives. Shadows lengthened, the dock held its silence, and October demands reflection more than rest.
Movements stir, and the quiet was not empty, it was charged, filled with what works unseen. Like branches bending before the crack, or thunder rumbling before it’s heard, silence carries weight.
October always has. It asks not for celebration but for depth, for remembering, for listening, for preparing. The fog cannot hold forever. Sooner than expected, it will part. And when it does, everything waiting behind it will step into view.
-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Next week, the storm is getting closer to arrival and silence will no longer be enough.
SONSHINE FOR YOU 