Words matter—
Words are powerful—
Words can save or immensely damage us.

But the question is “Which words do we want to choose to embroider
The blank sheets that can last for a lifetime?”
Before the words are etched on paper, there are only the blank pages.

What we reveal we can’t retrieve.
It’s our choice what we write and share,
It’s our decision how we fill out the empty spaces.

But the words can also be useless and powerless and meaningless
If they don’t mirror the truth that emanates from within us,
If they are not followed by action or if they are just simply ignored.

There was a silence before chaos—
There was peace before war—
There was love before fear—

Where do these poisoning, hurtful lies come from?
Where does this unbearable anger arises from?
They come from our fearful and negative thoughts,
They emerge from our painful ego that cannot survive in peace and harmony.

Ignorance is a filthy swamp, and it is hard to get out from it once we fall in.
As deep we are mired down in our own denial, as dark our thoughts become
And we are unable to see the light neither within us nor inside others.

We are trapped in our unconscious minds and can’t see the truth.
The truth—which is in all of us. But how can we find it?

Let’s ask this question to ourselves,
Who are we? If not the light of this world, than who? Just darkness?
It can’t be, because the moon will always shine through us all.

We are life; therefore we are love and light.
In stillness, when we turn our minds off
We don’t care about our names, status, or things
But only about our breath that keeps us one with life.

Life is all is on Earth that will never fade, unlike everything else
That we own, see, touch, or smell.

So what’s the point of hoarding and accumulating so much wealth and possessions
If our bodies, like trees, cannot last forever?
What’s the point to be here if not for each other?
Like trees, we cannot live without one another.

So what’s the point to breathe
If love is defeated by hatred
If peace is replaced by war
If life and being are forgotten and buried by the material things?

Who are we then?
Who are we?
Once again,
Who are we?


“Who am I?”
I asked.
“Am I a song that I sing?
Am I a heartbeat?
Am I water I drink?
Or air that I breathe?
Who am I?
Am I a fragrant flower that blooms each year?
Or a tree that grows here?
Am I a bird that’s free to fly
So high that it can touch the sky?
Maybe a river or a small stream
That flows downhill.”

“Who am I?
I don’t know—
Perhaps a heavy winter snow.
Am I a dream that I dream at night?
Or a pen that loves to write?”

The more I dive deep within
The less I know and the less I need.
The more I listen to my heart and soul
The more I feel that I’m one with all
That is.
Everywhere I look—I see
I’m part of you
And you’re part of me.

“Who am I?
I don’t know—
I accept that, though.”


I grew up in the country of Georgia
That has a remarkable history, authentic culture, deep roots,
And is unique in many ways.
I’ve lived in a few countries, in many cities and places (throughout the world)
Does that mean that I belong to any regions, ethnic groups, or races?
I don’t know.

If you ask a bird where she is from
She will flap her wings and fly away, free
With no answer
Does she care?
Do you care?

Although my native language is Georgian, the second is Russian, and the third is English.
I live in the US now and I speak, write, think, and dream in English.
Does it matter to you or to anyone?
I don’t know.

When we first meet someone, our most common question is “What do you do?”
In my case, “Where are you from?” (Because of my accent)
We crave to label each other.
Maybe it makes it easier to communicate with one another through those labels
Rather than being there and feel aliveness with them.
Sometimes we even forget to breathe
That’s how much we long to know about each other’s identities?
More than the truth—
More than anything.
We identify ourselves with everything
With names,
and more.
Where am I from?
Does that matter?

I’m like you—
Need air to survive
Need food to eat to stay alive.
I need a safe place to sleep at night
And a job to pay my bills on time.
But what we all need the most is LOVE.
We yearn for it, yet we hide it from everyone so that we are not judged.
We fear love—
We think love makes us weak and vulnerable
But the material things can make us mightier and honorable.

I’m from this planet, Earth—
Where are you from?
From the earth as well?
Then we are not different from one another.
Perhaps as Mother Teresa said, We have forgotten that we belong to each other.

You’re like me, “a human being.”
That is enough—


I wrote what I heard from within
Not what my mind wanted me to write.
I said how I felt in that moment, “the truth”
Not what my ego wanted me to say.
I did what my heart whispered to me in silence
and not what my head dictated me to do.
I looked at you and recognized how much love was
Within you, because it was in me.
It’s still in me, it never died, it never dissolved,
It is eternal.

Poems have no ending
As life never stops dancing
Even if we stop
Our posterity will carry on.
What is left on these pages will continue…


Sometimes I write and recite poems in my dreams.
I wake up and don’t remember any of them.
But in my dreams, I say, “When I wake up, I will transfer
This poem onto a paper with my pen.
There is no way that I can forget these words.”
Even during a dream, I’m aware that I’m not awake
But who is that “I” that is conscious of that? I wonder—

Once in my dream I recited a poem about “right and wrong.”
I woke up and the only words I remembered were “right and wrong.”

If I say that someone is wrong
How do I know that I’m right?
And if I say that I’m right
How do I know that I’m not wrong?

What was that poem all about?
Let go of attachement?
Perhaps finding the light in these two notions.
Still, I don’t know—

Russo Shanidze has self-published three works to date: her poetry collection, titled A Hummingbird’s Reminder in 2019; a memoir, titled A Hummingbird’s Awakening in 2021; and an audio poetry book titled, Poems by Russo Shanidze in 2020. She began her passion for writing by expressing her thoughts, dreams, and goals in her simple childhood diary, a practice which she has retained to this day. From her youth she became an adventurer through the written word, taking on different personas and expressing the heartache and happiness of the human spirit. Russo earned a BA in Mass Media Studies and Television Broadcasting at the University of Westminster in London and has worked in international television broadcasting and production. She established her home in the US seventeen years ago and currently works as a writer, poetry and creative writing coach, and voice-over artist.