Hello

I’m Sandy. I’m really glad you’re here.

Let me tell you a little about how poetry found me.

I was born in Mauritius and grew up in Australia, carrying pieces of both places with me — the warmth, the music, the sense of being shaped by more than one homeland. I didn’t grow up thinking I’d be a writer. For a long time, I was the quiet one, holding everything inside.

I grew up in a family of artists — singers, musicians, performers. Their voices filled the house, but I didn’t know how to use mine. A difficult home life taught me to stay small, to keep my feelings tucked away. While everyone around me expressed themselves so freely — or so I thought — I learned to disappear instead, slowly becoming smaller and smaller.

In another part of my story, my father, a seeker on his own path, filled our home with spiritual and philosophical books that became my sanctuary and a quiet catalyst for my own awakening. Spiritually, I grew up with both Christian Masses and Vedantic teachings — a blend of questions, wonder, and rituals. I didn’t understand it all then, but it shaped me. It taught me that our inner world has depth, pattern, and meaning, even when we don’t yet have the words.

Writing came later, slowly, as a way of excavating emotions I’d kept buried. It helped me make sense of the wounds, the longings, and the quiet truths I’d carried for years — even bringing a quiet order to my inner chaos. Over time, I began to see that this unearthing wasn’t just expression; it was a way of turning raw emotion into clarity, a gentle integration that opened me to deeper insight and healing. It became a place where I could finally hear myself.

And as I kept writing, I began to notice something else — that the stories inside us have their own shape. They break us open, teach us, and eventually bring us home. They feel personal, but they’re also something we all move through… a kind of quiet, inner mythology we carry without always noticing.

My poems come from those places. From the shadows we inherit… from the lessons we outgrow… from the small awakenings that remind us who we are.

I write from one human experience to another, hoping something in these words becomes a small catalyst for you. If my words meet you somewhere in your own story — if they help you feel seen or a little less alone in your inner experiences — then I’m grateful.

Thank you for being here, kindred spirit. I hope these poems offer you a soft, gentle return to yourself.