Gréachán
@greachan.bsky.social
Hi poetry friends,
It’s been lovely to share and explore creativity here these past nine months.
I’ve decided, however, that it’s time for me to close this account and step away from poetry altogether.
Thanks for being such a kind and inspiring community.
You’re all so kind and encouraging. :)
G
It’s been lovely to share and explore creativity here these past nine months.
I’ve decided, however, that it’s time for me to close this account and step away from poetry altogether.
Thanks for being such a kind and inspiring community.
You’re all so kind and encouraging. :)
G
September 30, 2025 at 9:03 PM
Hi poetry friends,
It’s been lovely to share and explore creativity here these past nine months.
I’ve decided, however, that it’s time for me to close this account and step away from poetry altogether.
Thanks for being such a kind and inspiring community.
You’re all so kind and encouraging. :)
G
It’s been lovely to share and explore creativity here these past nine months.
I’ve decided, however, that it’s time for me to close this account and step away from poetry altogether.
Thanks for being such a kind and inspiring community.
You’re all so kind and encouraging. :)
G
Rain!
The rain descends; a cold conundrum pressed
Against my skin, yet roots drink deep below.
What shivers through my bones becomes the blessed
Necessity that makes the green things grow.
#vss365
The rain descends; a cold conundrum pressed
Against my skin, yet roots drink deep below.
What shivers through my bones becomes the blessed
Necessity that makes the green things grow.
#vss365
September 30, 2025 at 7:27 PM
Rain!
The rain descends; a cold conundrum pressed
Against my skin, yet roots drink deep below.
What shivers through my bones becomes the blessed
Necessity that makes the green things grow.
#vss365
The rain descends; a cold conundrum pressed
Against my skin, yet roots drink deep below.
What shivers through my bones becomes the blessed
Necessity that makes the green things grow.
#vss365
. The spider hangs between two worlds,
a patient thought,
whose thread sublimates light
to silver thought.
Earth pulls, sky calls,
and it chooses neither.
#vss365
a patient thought,
whose thread sublimates light
to silver thought.
Earth pulls, sky calls,
and it chooses neither.
#vss365
September 29, 2025 at 8:04 PM
. The spider hangs between two worlds,
a patient thought,
whose thread sublimates light
to silver thought.
Earth pulls, sky calls,
and it chooses neither.
#vss365
a patient thought,
whose thread sublimates light
to silver thought.
Earth pulls, sky calls,
and it chooses neither.
#vss365
I want to live in the forest:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Let sap-song be my vespers
and the fernbreath my own;
I’ll marry moss and moonbeam’s bright eventuality.
Where deerpaths weave through starlight and the oakhearts beat unknown,
Let twilight write my testament in silver ecstasy.
#vss365
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Let sap-song be my vespers
and the fernbreath my own;
I’ll marry moss and moonbeam’s bright eventuality.
Where deerpaths weave through starlight and the oakhearts beat unknown,
Let twilight write my testament in silver ecstasy.
#vss365
Gojira - In The Forest
YouTube video by Kristo K
youtu.be
September 24, 2025 at 4:48 PM
I want to live in the forest:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Let sap-song be my vespers
and the fernbreath my own;
I’ll marry moss and moonbeam’s bright eventuality.
Where deerpaths weave through starlight and the oakhearts beat unknown,
Let twilight write my testament in silver ecstasy.
#vss365
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Let sap-song be my vespers
and the fernbreath my own;
I’ll marry moss and moonbeam’s bright eventuality.
Where deerpaths weave through starlight and the oakhearts beat unknown,
Let twilight write my testament in silver ecstasy.
#vss365
September 17, 2025 at 12:52 PM
The rose gives freely of its scent,
Not counting what in love is spent.
Not counting what in love is spent.
September 15, 2025 at 5:50 PM
The rose gives freely of its scent,
Not counting what in love is spent.
Not counting what in love is spent.
September 15, 2025 at 11:18 AM
~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~
~~~without flinching~~~~
~~~~~~~i dissolve~~~~~
~~~~where radiant~~~~~
~~currents flow~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~
#vss365
~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~
~~~without flinching~~~~
~~~~~~~i dissolve~~~~~
~~~~where radiant~~~~~
~~currents flow~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~
#vss365
September 14, 2025 at 6:52 PM
~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~
~~~without flinching~~~~
~~~~~~~i dissolve~~~~~
~~~~where radiant~~~~~
~~currents flow~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~
#vss365
~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~
~~~without flinching~~~~
~~~~~~~i dissolve~~~~~
~~~~where radiant~~~~~
~~currents flow~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~
#vss365
Peat Bog
In copper waters, silence
holds its ancient dream,
While hungry blooms feast
on light’s forgotten seams,
Here potential sleeps
in peat’s slow, sacred decay,
As barren mirrors birth
tomorrow from today.
#vss365
In copper waters, silence
holds its ancient dream,
While hungry blooms feast
on light’s forgotten seams,
Here potential sleeps
in peat’s slow, sacred decay,
As barren mirrors birth
tomorrow from today.
#vss365
September 12, 2025 at 6:57 AM
Peat Bog
In copper waters, silence
holds its ancient dream,
While hungry blooms feast
on light’s forgotten seams,
Here potential sleeps
in peat’s slow, sacred decay,
As barren mirrors birth
tomorrow from today.
#vss365
In copper waters, silence
holds its ancient dream,
While hungry blooms feast
on light’s forgotten seams,
Here potential sleeps
in peat’s slow, sacred decay,
As barren mirrors birth
tomorrow from today.
#vss365
September 11, 2025 at 9:22 PM
The world inside
contains no straight lines,
or single notes
or hues;
there are,
instead,
entire worlds,
whole galaxies
of brilliant blues.
Sometimes I’m exhausted
by this kaleidoscope
behind my eyes.
#vss365
contains no straight lines,
or single notes
or hues;
there are,
instead,
entire worlds,
whole galaxies
of brilliant blues.
Sometimes I’m exhausted
by this kaleidoscope
behind my eyes.
#vss365
September 11, 2025 at 6:53 AM
The world inside
contains no straight lines,
or single notes
or hues;
there are,
instead,
entire worlds,
whole galaxies
of brilliant blues.
Sometimes I’m exhausted
by this kaleidoscope
behind my eyes.
#vss365
contains no straight lines,
or single notes
or hues;
there are,
instead,
entire worlds,
whole galaxies
of brilliant blues.
Sometimes I’m exhausted
by this kaleidoscope
behind my eyes.
#vss365
The doorway cradled the suspended breath
both witness and altar
and eternity haemorrhaged through that crack.
I’m a question mark
carved in flesh,
Staring into an abyss
that stares back
with my own eyes.
#vss365
both witness and altar
and eternity haemorrhaged through that crack.
I’m a question mark
carved in flesh,
Staring into an abyss
that stares back
with my own eyes.
#vss365
September 7, 2025 at 8:40 AM
The doorway cradled the suspended breath
both witness and altar
and eternity haemorrhaged through that crack.
I’m a question mark
carved in flesh,
Staring into an abyss
that stares back
with my own eyes.
#vss365
both witness and altar
and eternity haemorrhaged through that crack.
I’m a question mark
carved in flesh,
Staring into an abyss
that stares back
with my own eyes.
#vss365
September 3, 2025 at 6:47 PM
Rain, arbitrary god of grey mornings,
baptises the bog cotton
while I,
drenched apostle of fear,
wonder if the hawthorn’s tears
are wiser than me.
#vss365
baptises the bog cotton
while I,
drenched apostle of fear,
wonder if the hawthorn’s tears
are wiser than me.
#vss365
September 3, 2025 at 8:28 AM
Rain, arbitrary god of grey mornings,
baptises the bog cotton
while I,
drenched apostle of fear,
wonder if the hawthorn’s tears
are wiser than me.
#vss365
baptises the bog cotton
while I,
drenched apostle of fear,
wonder if the hawthorn’s tears
are wiser than me.
#vss365
Arbitrary stars dissolve in streams of blue,
Their courses bending where none has yet seen;
The sky becomes a canvas, rare and new,
Where certain people learn the art of dreams.
#vss365
Their courses bending where none has yet seen;
The sky becomes a canvas, rare and new,
Where certain people learn the art of dreams.
#vss365
September 3, 2025 at 6:57 AM
Arbitrary stars dissolve in streams of blue,
Their courses bending where none has yet seen;
The sky becomes a canvas, rare and new,
Where certain people learn the art of dreams.
#vss365
Their courses bending where none has yet seen;
The sky becomes a canvas, rare and new,
Where certain people learn the art of dreams.
#vss365
I watched how the earth collapsed into the impossible hollow of your absence,
And the tides yearned backwards toward a moon
that would set, that night,
behind your shoulders.
I was
suspended
in the grammar of goodbye.
#vss365
And the tides yearned backwards toward a moon
that would set, that night,
behind your shoulders.
I was
suspended
in the grammar of goodbye.
#vss365
August 31, 2025 at 8:47 PM
I watched how the earth collapsed into the impossible hollow of your absence,
And the tides yearned backwards toward a moon
that would set, that night,
behind your shoulders.
I was
suspended
in the grammar of goodbye.
#vss365
And the tides yearned backwards toward a moon
that would set, that night,
behind your shoulders.
I was
suspended
in the grammar of goodbye.
#vss365
a rock pool
abandoned
by a retreating sea
holding fragments
in a shallow basin
a trapped
constellation of salt
dreams of drowning
But, the horizon,
only,
swallows the yearnings
of grief.
#vss365
abandoned
by a retreating sea
holding fragments
in a shallow basin
a trapped
constellation of salt
dreams of drowning
But, the horizon,
only,
swallows the yearnings
of grief.
#vss365
August 31, 2025 at 5:15 PM
a rock pool
abandoned
by a retreating sea
holding fragments
in a shallow basin
a trapped
constellation of salt
dreams of drowning
But, the horizon,
only,
swallows the yearnings
of grief.
#vss365
abandoned
by a retreating sea
holding fragments
in a shallow basin
a trapped
constellation of salt
dreams of drowning
But, the horizon,
only,
swallows the yearnings
of grief.
#vss365
A surgeon’s blade carved clean around my borders,
As if I were the malignant shadow cast by light.
My mind (my cartographer of wounds) could not map
The geometry of such pain.
#vss365
As if I were the malignant shadow cast by light.
My mind (my cartographer of wounds) could not map
The geometry of such pain.
#vss365
August 28, 2025 at 9:26 PM
A surgeon’s blade carved clean around my borders,
As if I were the malignant shadow cast by light.
My mind (my cartographer of wounds) could not map
The geometry of such pain.
#vss365
As if I were the malignant shadow cast by light.
My mind (my cartographer of wounds) could not map
The geometry of such pain.
#vss365
Each dawn my soul emerges, jovial and strange,
A thing reborn from night’s dissolving foam,
Hoping some cosmic hand might rearrange
The very atoms of his earthly home.
#vss365
A thing reborn from night’s dissolving foam,
Hoping some cosmic hand might rearrange
The very atoms of his earthly home.
#vss365
August 27, 2025 at 3:37 PM
Each dawn my soul emerges, jovial and strange,
A thing reborn from night’s dissolving foam,
Hoping some cosmic hand might rearrange
The very atoms of his earthly home.
#vss365
A thing reborn from night’s dissolving foam,
Hoping some cosmic hand might rearrange
The very atoms of his earthly home.
#vss365
August 25, 2025 at 4:58 PM
Beneath the robin's liquid trill, beneath
The sighing meadowgrass and aspen's prayer,
A bass note thrums through leaf and stone and sheath
Of morning mist - the breath that binds the air.
#vss365
This is a reflection of the breath that binds all living things together. Read the whole poem here:
The sighing meadowgrass and aspen's prayer,
A bass note thrums through leaf and stone and sheath
Of morning mist - the breath that binds the air.
#vss365
This is a reflection of the breath that binds all living things together. Read the whole poem here:
Undertone
www.greachan.com
August 24, 2025 at 2:24 PM
Beneath the robin's liquid trill, beneath
The sighing meadowgrass and aspen's prayer,
A bass note thrums through leaf and stone and sheath
Of morning mist - the breath that binds the air.
#vss365
This is a reflection of the breath that binds all living things together. Read the whole poem here:
The sighing meadowgrass and aspen's prayer,
A bass note thrums through leaf and stone and sheath
Of morning mist - the breath that binds the air.
#vss365
This is a reflection of the breath that binds all living things together. Read the whole poem here: