Daily Ripples

Songs, thoughts and the ripples they create ... | Check out my side blog »» https://www.tumblr.com/notimjustagirl

[celestialrambler]

Introduction

Healing through music and writing...

I am learning to feel life again, one song at a time. Thought I'd share my midnight reflections with you.

Here, you’ll find lyrics that speak to my soul, along with the thoughts they inspire. Every post is a ripple, a small moment shared in the hope that it resonates.

Please feel free to share your thoughts, and any song recommendations are always welcomed. :)

[celestialrambler]

In the Time It Took

I look up.

I see the branches sprawled in each and every direction.

I see the leaves at the ends of the branches, fluttering in the wind.

I look closely.

I find the small buds nestled between the leaves, yet to bloom.

I focus on one.

I can see the slight color peeking from the calyces.

I wait.

I wait longer.

But I can’t find any difference, can’t see any progress.

I leave, disheartened.

I come again the next day.

I search for the bud again.

Barely any difference. Any movement.

I come again the next day, and the next, and the next.

But the bud doesn’t grow.

It’s fixed in time—

and so am I.

The wind picks up and ruffles the tree,

its branches shaking vigorously.

I feel something fall on my head.

I pick it up and look at it.

It’s a flower, fully bloomed,

a splash of colors, vibrant.

I look up.

I see the branches sprawled in each and every direction.

I see the leaves at the ends of the branches, fluttering in the wind.

I look closely.

I find the bunch of flowers,

crowding each other in full bloom.

I am taken by surprise.

In fixating on one small bud,

I didn’t see that the time blossomed the tree.

And I was unhappy for longer than needed.

Maybe I am really a fool.

— celestialrambler

[celestialrambler]

Perspectives

I see it—

Raging colors,

Shattered spectrums,

Chaos painting meaning.

You see it too—

Lines, curves,

A clarity vague,

A form taking form.

They see it too—

In myriad ways,

Shapes and figures,

Each with its own name.

We become something—

Object, concept,

Larger than being—

A miracle in tandem.

Do you wonder,

or do you believe,

that we deserve to see

the vision—in its full entirety?

[celestialrambler]

This poem was inspired by the book "When We Cease to Understand the World" by Benjamín Labatut. I'm currently reading it and am really enjoying. It's a very thought provoking book. Would recommend 10/10

🥰💖📖

[celestialrambler]

Perspectives

I see it—

Raging colors,

Shattered spectrums,

Chaos painting meaning.

You see it too—

Lines, curves,

A clarity vague,

A form taking form.

They see it too—

In myriad ways,

Shapes and figures,

Each with its own name.

We become something—

Object, concept,

Larger than being—

A miracle in tandem.

Do you wonder,

or do you believe,

that we deserve to see

the vision—in its full entirety?

[celestialrambler]

Raindrops are ghosts that have condensed their sorrow.

They haunt the window panes, sliding slowly, clinging desperately.

But what are they holding onto?

[evangel108-deactivated20260314]

A reminder to self and others: Just because our creative works don't earn a living, or stand to gain a lot of acclaim (i.e. likes, notes, etc.), doesn't mean they're not worth creating.

[celestialrambler]

not afraid, just miserable

I’m not trying to run away.

I’m trying to breathe.

Staying here doesn’t scare me—it’s not fear, it’s misery.

Not terror, just a slow ache. Like clipping a bird’s wings, then telling her to be grateful for the cage.

I don’t hate this place.

I hate the version of me that has to exist to stay in it.

There’s a yearning in me—not for escape, but for expansion.

I was not built to be rooted. I was meant to fly.

And leaving?

It isn’t weakness.

It’s not uprooting.

It’s becoming.

Because I finally understand:

I’m not too much for this world.

This world is just too small for my wings.

[celestialrambler]

Trees. Our eternal companions. Whenever loneliness creeps in and life feels heavy, look around you. You'll always find these magnificent beings, with rings of struggle etched into their trunks and a lifetime of wisdom in their branches. They've stood their ground, inching forward with each tiny step, thriving in the harshest conditions without ever harboring resentment. From fragile saplings to towering giants, from grasses to cacti to conifers, there's an all-encompassing, timeless kindness in their existence. Let us befriend them, forming an eternal bond of love and companionship.

[notimjustagirl]

pov: you're touching the surface of a lake in the afternoon sun. The breeze is gentle and cool. The waves ebb slowly as if calling out to you. Your heart is still, your desires and longings have quieted for a moment. In this moment, nothing else matters. You. Just you.

[celestialrambler]

I Am My Home

In the morning,

my home is the world—

open skies, rustling leaves,

the hush before the song.

I wake with the wind

and drink the light of trees.

In the afternoon,

my home is the city—

a borrowed corner in a café,

a library whisper, a street full of stories.

I walk between lives

like pages turning beneath my feet.

In the evening,

my home is my people—

soulfam gathered in laughter,

eyes that reflect my fire,

hearts that pulse with mine

in rhythm and rebellion.

At night,

my home returns to me—

to my inner sanctum

where I create worlds,

birth characters,

and speak to gods that look like me.

And in rest,

my home is silence.

Not absence—but arrival.

Not sleep—but surrender.

-celestialrambler

[purr-in-ink]

[celestialrambler]

Yes! YES!! 😭😭

[celestialrambler]

Matt Haig, The Midnight Library

[celestialrambler]

Flowers bloom

Even after the cold,

Despite the fear,

Trees grow old.

Rivers flow

Though rocks may stand,

Winds still dance

Across the land.

Glaciers move

In the sweltering sun,

Tides swell

Then come undone.

Mountains rise

Through fire and time,

Echoing fate

In peaks they climb.

Life blossoms

In harshest places,

Hope still lingers

In hidden spaces.

My dearest,

You will thrive.

Hold on strong—

You are alive.

-celestialrambler

[celestialrambler]

Matt Haig, The Midnight Library

[notimjustagirl]

Finished reading The Midnight Library by Matt Haig today. It left me with this thought: I am alive, and that alone is powerful.

[celestialrambler]

Does the dawn recall yesterday’s sky,

or does it wake, untethered, newborn?

A palette rinsed, yet tinged with echoes—

the gold of old whispers, the blue of unsaid dreams.

[celestialrambler]

A Ghost's Plea

I'm a ghost drifting endlessly. Tethered to this world by nothing but gravity. Oh, how I wish for someone to reach out.

The silence echoes. Oh, so loud. It reverberates through my being. My thoughts scatter in space. Oh, so fragile.

Will I see the sunrise, or disappear with the moon? The stars glimmer as if they know. Yes, I know. You are not here.

A void rests in my heart. It is filled with loneliness. I conceal it in falsehood. This agony is unbearable. Don’t let it seize.

I’ll fare by. I will. But will you?

[celestialrambler]

Started The Midnight Library today. A book about choices, regrets, and possibilities—fitting, in a way. Wondering what my own library would look like.