
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!

The Beauty of the Three Sisters
The Three Sisters system of planting originated with indigenous farmers in North America. Three plants - corn, beans and squash, each does a different job, like three sisters helping each other out.

Rise and Fall
Rising and falling like nature's flower, in nature's hour, endless. Continuing and never ending, the flower grows and the flower goes.

Growing Pains
How many re-births can one have in one’s lifetime?
And does it depend entirely upon how many times one allows oneself to die

Mapacho’s Embrace
In the realm of sacred plants, one stands mighty tall, Mapacho, with its wisdom, it promises to enthral.

A Different Kind of Pile-Up
My stumble then fall
Causes the usual pile-up—
Shock collides into Judgement
And thrusts her forward
To rear-end Shame

Choices
I can only be in one part of a room Be in one place at any given time Drive one car Talk of one thing.

Writing is Bound with Magic
I was thinking about the thousand different ways to wear a story this past week, as I celebrated one of my favorite collections of holidays: Groundhog Day/Imbolc and Candlemas.

Birthing the Sun
I’m so on the surface. I grow and grow and I’m feeling muddy and ruddy. red earth. from the belly to the belly. clay and jungle bugs and mystery and awakening.

And Granny cried
And Granny cried And the Robin heralded winter I thought I saw a fox peep

Stirring the Seeds
Have you noticed the light? Here, the pink has been kissing the dawn. Soft, so soft, and at dusk, it also blushes.

My Persephone
Persephone doesn’t feel timeless. She looks in the mirror and sees the wrinkles of bark tracing lines on her skin. Underground has its own season.

Girltruth
Spirit Whispers her voice into my ear often. Daily. Sometimes in the night. When I ask her for what she knows, she tells me.
