Between Sun & Shore was written in February of last year, during a season where I was learning what it felt like to be seen gently instead of weathered. It came from a place of quiet awe—of realizing that sometimes love doesn’t arrive like a storm, but like warmth. Like light finding its way through the cracks you thought would always stay broken.
This poem is about that in-between space: where grief softens, where healing begins, where you are no longer only the tide or the storm—but something new, something held. It’s about the moment you realize that someone hasn’t come to save you… they’ve come to grow beside you.
Where storms soften and light learns your name.
Between Sun & Shore Poetry by Rowan Evans
I once drifted like a wayward tide, Lost in the waves, nowhere to hide. Storms had carved their name in me, Each scar a tale, each wound a sea.
Then you arrived—a golden ray, Like sunrise spilling into the bay.
Your voice, a hymn the wind would weave, Soft as the hum of the monsoon’s reprieve. You traced my ruins, stone by stone, And turned them into sacred homes.
Now every ripple speaks your name, Each whispered breeze, each dancing flame.
Like sampaga’s quiet grace, You bloom where sorrow left its trace. Between Sun and Shore, love grew— A bridge of light, leading to you.
For the souls who are still here, even when it hurts.
🕯️ Featured Guest Poem ✨ For the souls who are still here, even when it hurts.
Some poems arrive like lifelines—woven from truth, pain, grace, and the quiet strength of survival. They don’t offer easy answers, but they do offer space. Space to feel. To breathe. To be reminded that healing is messy, nonlinear, and still… deeply sacred.
“To the Ones Who Feel Like Ghosts” by Shiann is exactly that kind of poem.
“I wrote it with the intention to give some kind of guidance, space and hope,” Shiann said. “Because being someone who suffers from mental health issues and trauma, I know how easy it is to get lost when trying to heal. It’s hard, and it can feel like there’s a veil covering the eyes of the soul. But healing doesn’t always have to be painful—it just needs to be honest. And when it’s honest, it’s done with grace.”
This poem is a sanctuary for anyone who’s ever wondered if they’re too far gone to be found again. It’s a reminder that even in the dark, even when we feel like ghosts in our own lives— we are still becoming.
I am deeply honored to feature this as the first-ever guest poem on my blog. Let it meet you wherever you are. Let it be a soft place to land.
“To the Ones Who Feel Like Ghosts” for the souls who are still here, even when it hurts
If you’re reading this with tired eyes, barely holding on, wondering if the road even leads anywhere— this is for you.
For the ones who feel like life keeps happening to them instead of with them. For the ones who keep giving love and getting silence in return. For the ones who wake up and already feel behind.
You are not broken. You are becoming.
I know it feels like you’re crumbling. Like everything you touch slips through your fingers and every breath tastes like defeat. But listen closely:
Some things fall apart because they were never meant to hold your becoming. You were not made to stay small just to make others comfortable. You were not made to disappear just to survive.
Your mess does not cancel your magic. Your doubt does not erase your worth. You can feel lost and still be on your path.
You don’t need to have it all figured out. You don’t need to feel good all the time. You don’t even need to know where you’re going. You just need to keep going.
Because there is a version of you waiting— not perfect, not fixed— but free. Free from shame. Free from the lie that healing must be fast or pretty. Free to speak gently to the parts of yourself that never heard a kind word.
So take your time. Cry if you need to. Start over as many times as it takes.
Just don’t stop being you. Even if you don’t know who that is yet.
There is peace here, not in perfection— but in presence. In letting yourself exist exactly as you are.
So breathe. Rest. Begin again.
You’re not alone. And you’re not lost. You’re just on your way home.
🇺🇸 United States
988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline – Call or text 988 https://988lifeline.org Free, 24/7 support for emotional distress and mental health crises.
If this poem spoke to you, know you’re not alone on your journey. Healing is not a race or a destination, but a series of moments where grace meets courage. May Shiann’s words remind you to breathe, to rest, and to keep moving forward—one step, one breath, one honest moment at a time.
Thank you for sharing this space with us.
With respect and gratitude, — Rowan Evans The Luminous Heretic
Poetry by Rowan Evans 