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ZenArashi
91 770,552 M Meaningful Journey 13
Goal: Someone who can be at peace with not attaining perfection all the time
PathStep 251 Compassion hearts97,601 Forum posts158 Forum upvotes481 Current upvotes481 Age GroupAdult Last activeFebruary, 2025 Member sinceMarch 15, 2020
Bio

🍃 I am Zen 💜💙

🍃My username means Calm Storm in Japanese.

🌊 Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light. - Brené Brown


Recent forum posts
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Winter’s Solace
Poetry / by ZenArashi
Last post
 February 15th
...See more I. The Breath of Winter Cold winds hum through the trees,   their barren branches weep,   the earth covered in frost,   as if time itself has frozen. I wander alone,   my thoughts wrapped in layers,   like the snow on the ground,   each flake a fragment of memory. A quiet ache lingers,   like a forgotten name   etched in the pale sky,   fading as the days pass. Yet, in this frozen silence,   I hear a distant murmur   the whisper of my soul,   still seeking, still yearning. II. The Weight of the Past Behind me, shadows dance   in the dying light,   flickers of old sorrows   that refused to die. I trace the lines of regret   with trembling fingers   the stories I never told,   the love I never spoke. Winter knows my heart,   knows the cold emptiness   that wraps me in its arms,   yet somehow, I feel alive. The past is a heavy coat,   but I wear it like armor,   protecting what’s fragile,   nurturing what is yet to come. III. The Search for Solace Where do I go from here?   What road remains to walk?   I search the silent sky,   wondering if the stars will answer. I close my eyes,   and listen to the wind’s song,   its melody soft and wise,   sung by the earth itself. In the stillness, I find solace, not in the answers, but in the questions,   the space between breath and thought,   where hope flickers like a candle. IV. Hope in the Cold The future is a distant light,   hidden in the folds of snow,   but it is there, I know a promise etched in the dark. I lift my head,   eyes tracing the horizon,   and though the storm rages,   I begin to trust the dawn. For even in winter’s freeze,   there is warmth to be found,   in the whispers of tomorrow,   and the strength to rise again.
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Whispering Shadow
Poetry / by ZenArashi
Last post
 February 13th
...See more I glance at you from the corner of the room,   a quiet flame in the flicker of dusk, Your laughter is a stream,   carving its path through silence,   and I, a river in waiting,   gather stones in my throat. I am a secret garden,   trembling beneath the weight of unsaid words,   my heart, a wildflower,   brushing against the wispy wind of doubt. Your name, a shadow on my skin,   pressing against the skin of my thoughts.   Minted memory warm and weightless,  like a rosy reverie on Sunday siesta.  In the stillness of your smile,   I burn quietly,   like the first ember before the fire,   a spark too shy to leap. I long to speak,   but my voice shivers like a falcon,    on the edge of a storm,   caught between the sky and the earth,   never knowing if it will soar or fall. I am a quiet song,   singing only to the stars,   waiting for your name to slip   from the tip of my tongue,   a confession caught in the undertow.   you are the silence that holds me,   the air too sweet to break,   and so,   I wait,   glancing at you from the shadows,   like a sunset no one dares to name.
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Silent Strength
Poetry / by ZenArashi
Last post
 February 9th
...See more Victory has a thousand fathers,   each one striding with chest puffed wide,   claiming the day, each breath a boast,   hands raised in golden light.   But defeat,   defeat is an orphan,   lost beneath the cold gray sky,   its name forgotten,   its echo silenced   by those who turned their backs. Yet, in the stillness of the night,   when the stars are scattered,   a quiet whisper stirs the air,   a hand unseen,   lifting you from the ashes of defeat.   For victory is loud and brash,   but defeat teaches where strength lies,   it calls for the quiet rise,   when no one else sees the scars.   So, hold the flame inside your chest,   though the world may walk away,   the orphaned road will guide you still,   in the darkness, you’ll find your way.
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A Sojourner’s Return
Poetry / by ZenArashi
Last post
 February 3rd
...See more In the mist of London’s gray,   I discover the joy of learning and yearning,   Surrounded by sea of familiar strangers,  yet I was a stranger to my own reflection.   Boston is my battlefield of sweet-sorrow,  Coffee stained stories told over  insomnia cookies and subway grates Here I exist, but I do not belong.   Now, I return,   to the familiar taste of rain,   yet I find myself a welcomed stranger,   Here I belong, but I do not exist.   I tried on languages like clothes,   but none have settled on my skin,  the zephyr whispering my name waiting to be claimed. 
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The Tempest
Poetry / by ZenArashi
Last post
 January 27th
...See more A tempest brews,   Dark clouds twisting,   Whispers of thunder crack   Through my sprawling sky. Raindrops fall,   Cold and sharp,   Each thought a droplet,   A weight,   A burden. Winds howl,   Raging through ,   The heart of the tempest,   The storm inside,   Unannounced, uninvited. But in the chaos,   A flicker,   A break in the clouds   A tiny, fragile light   Fighting its way through. I hold onto that spark,   Like a tree gripping roots,   Pushing against the gusts,    Bending,   But not breaking. I fight the tempest that lives inside,   clutching at calm, taming the tide.   With each thunderous flash, I rise rebuilding myself with quiet sighs. 
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Empty sky : A eulogy
Poetry / by ZenArashi
Last post
 January 31st
...See more The wind is still,   A leaf falls not a single sound   but its a quiet descent.      The tree, once full,   stands bare,   its branches reaching   into an empty sky.      The earth beneath me   feels colder now,   like the space   where you once stood.      I search the horizon,   but there’s no trace,   just the endless stretch   of what’s left behind.   And in the silence,   I wonder if the stars,   have forgotten to shine. 
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Bent but not broken
Poetry / by ZenArashi
Last post
 January 18th
...See more A single branch,   twisted by wind,   holds on to what remains.    The sky above, heavy with clouds,   and the earth below trembles. I stand in the hollow of a tree,   its bark peeling away like old wounds,   roots struggling to find a steady grip. The raging river beside me rises,   crashing against the slippery stones,   dragging murky memories in its wake.   The listless leaves above flutter and fall,   each one a quiet surrender,   but I do not let go.     I stand,   Bent but not broken,   This too shall pass. 
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