Reflections (Scattered Poetry)

Time on the Edge

It seems I should be comfortable now,
Lying just so,
So precariously.
One false move,
Ouch, another cut.
Seems like I’m spending more time
Than I ought here.
Right here on the edge.
And so I breathe deeply,
And let it out in a sigh,
And let the fear and panic dissipate,
And the storm clouds go unacknowledged.
Taking a moment, a quiet one,
Here on the edge,
My time to ponder the “why” of it all.
Wonder “why” I keep coming back,
Back to the same spot.
What exactly was it I missed,
Last time around.
Eyes always fixed ahead,
On the next step,
on the time when everything is right again.
Although I never quite get it right,
What that time is supposed to look like.
So instead I’ll lean back,
And soak in the scenery,
Maybe pitch a small tent,
Build a campfire and take a long look around.
After all I wouldn’t keep coming back
If there wasn’t something here,
Something to see,
Something to know.
Or maybe just a moment to learn,
To learn to quiet my own heart.

Spending Time

Waiting
Waiting desperately
for change to come.
eyes fixed on a different time,
so cognizant of the anxiety of the present.
Waiting
Waiting for a painful stretch to end,
blinded by the anguish and uncertainty
of the moment.
Breathing deeply
and stopping thought
that breeds discord.
Stopping thought
and moving in the present,
quietly in each moment,
learning to live peacefully
in uncertainty.

A thousand years ago . . .

Is it a thousand years ago since I have seen your face?
And I have left what should be finished hanging in an uncertain place.
Is it so much time since we’ve expressed the truth?
My hope was to be closer to you
But it’s all fallen away.
I can’t believe you’ve left.
I expected the earth to cave into itself when you did.
But it was quiet, somber, silent perhaps.
And so gently, as was your soul.
The world since you’ve gone is perplexing to me.
We’ve all lost our center, our very gravity.
I couldn’t have imagined this place in your absence.
And while I know you’ve gone, moved onto new adventures,
In some ways it feels that you’re still here, waiting quietly,
To egg us on, to hold us close, to let us know you’ve never left.

© Evelyn Klebert 2025

A Journey to Healing

I’ve been spending a lot of time recently working on the audiobook for A Quiet Moment. A Quiet Moment is part of The Mystic’s Collection, a box set of three paranormal novels I wrote in succession.


While Sanctuary of Echoes and Treading on Borrowed Time are books that turn on what I’d consider highly dramatic plot points, A Quiet Moment is a bit of a different beast. I would categorize it more as a book that leans heavily in the direction of a contemporary romance but with extraordinary complications. That doesn’t mean it isn’t dramatic. Sometimes the most dramatic moments of someone’s life happen on a smaller more personal scale not on a grand stage, but on a smaller one, an intimate and personally significant one. That’s the stuff and meat of life.

Revisiting and spending time with this book reminds me how vast the stage of life is and how little we really know about each other and our personal struggles. These characters while dealing with extraordinary psychic gifts are also battling to overcome their own fear, their own past traumas, and learning to help each other and trust again.


I can say honestly, it’s one of the books I’m proudest of because it could really be anybody. We are all extraordinary in ways most never see or acknowledge. And we all struggle and hopefully try to become better people through that struggle. That’s makes us human and capable of greatness on whatever scale, even a very personal one.

A Quiet Moment

Jacob Wyss is caught in a rut, in fact on the verge of being engulfed by it. After an excruciating and disillusioning divorce, his life as an artist in a sleepy college town at the foot of the Appalachian mountains has become quiet, routine, and maddening in its predictability. One wintry day, his deep restlessness drives him out in precarious conditions to a largely empty bookstore nearly devoid of another living soul, nearly.

Aimee Marston isn’t like everyone else. On the surface, she lives a sedate life working as a feature writer for a small local newspaper in addition to several other editorial jobs to help make ends meet. But just beneath, her existence is largely not her own. She is a sensitive, an empathic psychic, guided by her calling to use her gifts to help others. Unfortunately, as a result, her secretiveness has made her defensive and protective of herself, preventing her from having much of a life of her own.

A psychic call for help sends Aimee out on a freezing January morning, where her destiny and Jacob’s collide, sending both their lives spiraling onto an unexpected and often disturbing track. Two lonely souls connect, not by accident but by design. Theirs is the intersection of two spiritual paths, two lovers who must struggle to overcome the phantoms of a past life as well as the challenges of their inner demons to carve out an extraordinary future together.

The Mystic’s Collection

Love is complicated, but even more so, if you are a seer, a psychic sensitive to the unseen world. The Mystic’s Collection is a box set of three haunting and unforgettable novels masterfully woven by paranormal author Evelyn Klebert.