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Poetry

In Saoró we be­lieve that read­ing and writ­ing po­et­ry sup­ports a spir­i­tu­al and  cre­ative life be­cause they fos­ter deep pro­cess­ing, emo­tion­al ex­pres­sion, and a  height­ened aware­ness of the hu­man ex­pe­ri­ence. Po­et­ry beau­ti­ful­ly dis­tills com­plex  feel­ings and uni­ver­sal truths into evoca­tive lan­guage, al­low­ing us to con­nect more  deeply with our in­ner selves and the world around us. En­gag­ing with po­et­ry cul­tivates mind­ful­ness, in­spires our imag­i­na­tion, and en­cour­ages a sense of won­der  and awe, all of which nur­ture our spir­i­tu­al growth. Po­et­ry also stim­u­lates our creativ­i­ty by chal­leng­ing the mind to find new ways of see­ing and ex­press­ing re­al­i­ty,  sup­port­ing deep ex­plo­ration and self-dis­cov­ery es­sen­tial to a vi­brant, full and authen­tic life. It is both food and med­i­cine for the soul. 

In Ire­land we have a strong lin­eage of po­et­ry go­ing back to the an­cient times  of the revered trav­el­ing Bard. Every year we host a po­et­ry month on Saoró and we  get to wit­ness the in­cred­i­ble depth and beau­ty of this sa­cred form of cre­ative wor ship that still holds a place in Irish hearts.  

Got po­et­ry you would love to share? We warm­ly in­vite you to send in your work  and we can show­case it on Saoró. This space is free, heart-led, and open to all who  cre­ate with pur­pose, play, and soul. Just send your de­tails & work to us and we will get in touch!  

Tender Around The Eyes

I grew tall /
too quickly /
Almost as quick as my inferiority /
No amount of sloping and flat shoes /
Could hide /
my head above the parapet

My Body

now every cell feels the shame /
The programmes passed down from generation to generation /  
Can I break the cycle? /
Can I be the one to say no more? /
Can I be the one to break free of addictions allure? 

32 Days

In the garden of my being, seasons dance and sway, Each phase a delicate bloom in its destined way.

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Power

The release and let go /
The ebb and the flow /
The emotions arise /
Be still, acknowledge, and let go

Monsters

If you look for monsters /
You will surely find them— /
Simple stringy ones /
To start /
Cute with saucer eyes /
And dripping needle teeth

She Calls Me

The sea, a paradox profound and wide /
In whispers soft, in roaring tide /
She cradles dreams in her gentle sway /
Yet fiercely claims what’s in her way

That Black Dress

This black dress bears the marks of time /
A poignant part of sorrow’s rhyme /
It speaks of loss, but also grace /
A gentle, dignified embrace

Earth’s Whisper

Pachamama, mother of all /
Her heartbeat resonates, a primal call /
In each drop of rain and every grain of sand /
Her spirit dances, vibrant and grand

She is Wild & Free

In the depths of her eyes, a universe untamed /
Where constellations of dreams softly flamed /
Her spirit, unbridled, like rivers that flow /
Through valleys and canyons where wildflowers grow.