Khalia Wildawn

I think meadows will always hold a special piece of my heart. I love wandering barefoot through the wildflowers, feeling them brush against my fingertips while a little stream dances beside me. Out here, beneath the open sky, I don’t have to be anythi…

I still remember the desert shimmering before me, beautiful and endless, until the fierce heat made me wonder which things were real and which were only illusions dancing across the golden sand. Hello from beneath the desert sun. When the Sand Began t…

I reached out to touch a flower and found myself wondering how the forest could hold so much beauty in one place. Orchids spilled from the trees, butterflies danced between the leaves, and somewhere beyond me, water tumbled over the rocks. For a momen…

High above the noise of the world, I watched the sun turn the mountains to gold and found a little peace in the silence that seemed to stretch on forever. Welcome to a breath of crisp mountain air. I wrote this poem after standing high in the snowy mo…

I kneel where the sea meets the shore and trail my fingers through the turquoise water. For a little while, I ask nothing of the world. I simply listen to the ripples, feel the sunlight on my skin, and let the ocean whisper whatever it comes to tell m…

Spring whispers of beginnings, summer invites me to wander, autumn teaches me to let go, and winter reminds me to be still. Each one has its own voice. I only have to listen. When I was little, I didn’t think of a river, falling leaves, fresh snow or …