This post marks a gentle return to long-form writing on Poetic Resurrection, rooted in the Still Point, after a season of quieter work. What follows isn’t an update or announcement, but an open reflection — a way of gathering what’s been unfolding and offering it here, for anyone who happens to arrive.

If you’re arriving here now, you’re welcome — just as you are.

Returning to the Still Point

I haven’t written here in a while. Not because I stepped away — but because my creative life moved into a quieter rhythm. Since December, Poetic Resurrection has been living in shorter forms: daily Still Point Minute meditations, spoken reflections, and pieces shared without much explanation. The work continued, just differently. Less about announcing. More about offering.

That shift wasn’t planned. It simply felt right.

A Different Pace

I’ve learned that creativity doesn’t always want momentum. Sometimes it asks for steadiness. Over the past few months, I focused on presence — on making space for breath, attention, and compassion. The Still Point Minute became a small daily ritual, both for listeners and for me. Not something to perfect or promote, just something to return to. In that process, I let go of the need to keep everything moving forward all the time. I trusted that meaning would still arrive, even if it did so quietly.

It did.

Letting the Work Breathe

For a long time, I felt responsible for shaping every piece into something finished, explained, and shareable. Lately, I’ve been more interested in letting work stay open. Poetry returned to its original role — not as a statement, but as a companion. Reflection followed. So did humor, uncertainty, and moments of rest. Nothing needed to be solved. Everything simply needed room.

Why I’m Writing Here Again

Poetic Resurrection has always been a place for thoughtful pause — a space that values interior life as much as expression. That hasn’t changed. What has changed is my relationship to pace. I’m more comfortable letting things unfold. I’m less interested in urgency, and more interested in resonance. This space is opening again not with a declaration, but with a gentle continuation. Some posts may be brief. Some may wander. Some may arrive slowly.

All of that is welcome.

A Simple Return

If you’ve been here during the quieter months, thank you for staying. If you’re returning now, welcome back. And if you’re new, I’m glad you found your way here. This isn’t a restart — just a return to what feels steady and true.

Poetic Resurrection Podcast

The current episode on the Poetic Resurrection Podcast is a tribute to my father, Francisco Lozada, who passed away on Father’s Day, June 15, 2025. During his memorial, I read a tribute to him and, in a rather unusual moment, I sought guidance from my higher self. The response came to me as a poem/letter.

This episode is dedicated to everyone who has lost a loved one. My dad was the last of his generation, and his absence will be deeply felt. Sending love to my dad and to everyone out there who is grieving.

Listen in for the full episode along with the guidance from higher self.

Blessings.

Final Tribute: “Today My Dad Took His Last Breath”

In loving memory of my father

Today,
my dad took his last breath—
a long gasp
followed by
the slow, steady beats of his heart.

Beats that continued
even after he had said
farewell to life.

Farewell to family.
Farewell to his independence.
Farewell to the walls of his home.

My sister was there—
a witness
to his final breath.
I’m grateful
he didn’t leave this world alone.

She held his hand
as he whispered goodbye
to this earthly plane—
his hurt,
his love,
his joy,
his pain.

I said goodbye
and told him I loved him
over video—

Afraid I might arrive too late
to hold his hand
while the rhythm of life
still echoed in his pulse.

I arrived
ten minutes after he passed.

Ten minutes—
a breath,
a blink,
a lifetime.

Still,
I am grateful.

Grateful for the time we shared.
Grateful for the grace of presence.
Grateful that he was my father.

And I,
his daughter.

Inspire Me: Awakening Dreams