S F H music  Spring Radio

Love poem to personal shadow. Intimate exploration of tenderness toward rejected aspects of the self. Part of my new book “Breakfast with Jung” Chapter 2- The Shadow

Ode to the Unseen Self

Ethereal exploration of Jung's Anima concept through intimate vocals and atmospheric soundscapes. Deep feminine energy transforms from obsidian night to dawn, weaving cellular wisdom into song. Mystical folk with ambient textures captures how the inner feminine communicates through dreams, intuition, and creative expression. Part of my upcoming book "Breakfast with Jung” Chapter 6, Anima and Animus. I hope you can enjoy. S F H -Stephen Hollins


FEMININE WHISPERS

Black through black obsidian night
Your inner feminine
Forging silver notes into song
Each ripple encoding what marrow remembers

Deep in dream's labyrinth
She spins molecules into midnight silk
Her movements writing what tongue can't speak

Between heartbeats, hear how she transmutes
Your armor to astral radiance
As wild birds spiral threads of silk's light
Through your chest's dark cave

In cellular depths where time dissolves like salt
Braids sunrise with the mystery of the unknown
Your ancient feminine teaching bones to dance

Between heartbeats, hear how she transmutes
Your armor to astral radiance
As wild birds spiral threads of silk's light
Through your chest's dark cave

Deep in dream's labyrinth
She spins molecules into midnight silk
Her movements writing what tongue can't speak
Teaching bones to dance
Teaching bones to dance

Feminine Whispers

Explores how we project unacknowledged inner qualities onto romantic partners. Through New Zealand nature imagery, the song charts the journey from idealised love (seeing missing parts of ourselves in another) through disillusionment (borrowed strength fading) to psychological maturity. The core insight: the courage, grace, and wholeness we seek in lovers already exists within us, sleeping like seeds. Love matures when we reclaim these projections and meet as equals—"not your missing piece, but your equal in this wild garden of becoming." From my upcoming book "Breakfast with Jung" Chapter 5: Anima and Animus. 
Jazz (43%), Jazz, Nu Jazz / Jazztronica (38%) Singer Songwriter (22%) Adult Contemporary (20%)
Jazz, Blues, Neo-Soul (15%)


A Field Guide to Projection  (Lyrics)

In the wild meadow of new love, we stand
Like pohutukawa reaching toward light
Morning mist wraps around our ankles
Kowhai petals scatter gold secrets
I see in you the quiet grace I've yet to embrace
While you mirror parts of me I've forgotten to claim

Seasons turn like pages in memory's book
Our shared story begins to blur
Your strength, once solid as Tane Mahuta
Trembles like flax in southerly winds
My warmth, borrowed from your fire
Fades like sunset on harbor waters

Thunder rolls through our shared silence
In winter's bare-branched honesty
Truth rises like dawn on Waiheke
The courage I sought in your heart
Was my own, sleeping like seed in soil
The gentleness you found in my hands
Your own grace, waiting to bloom

Our projections fall like autumn leaves
Becoming food for deeper roots
Spring arrives with its own wisdom
Morning paints messages on waves
Your hand in mine familiar as birdsong
In your eyes, I see myself at last
Not your missing piece, but your equal
In this wild garden of becoming
Between us, something entirely new
Takes root in ancient soil

A Field Guide to Projection

Buried alive

This Neo-Soul R&B heartfelt tribute to grief and transformation, based on Grant Lilly's original poem "Dog Gone" about losing his beloved companion Bunty on Christmas Eve. Adapted into song format, it explores how loss becomes wisdom through the recurring refrain about turning stumbling blocks into stepping stones—honoring how love persists beyond absence. 

Stumbling Blocks
If I were wise and wanted to be happy in my bones
Then I would look to turn my stumbling blocks into stepping stones
My constant companion for a dozen years
Died on the vet table today, Christmas Eve
Her convulsions and panting ceased
Relief now released
Her heart, her body let go
Now at peace, then laid to rest
At the bottom of a dug hole
And now there's the hole she leaves in my soul
The empty dog bowl, the vacant collar
The space on the road well walked
Her weight pressed against my thigh
Her warm eyes, her pink panting
Ready to walk, poised to play
If I were wise and wanted to be happy in my bones
Then I would look to turn my stumbling blocks into stepping stones
Now her sputum stains on my carpet are precious
And her presence is not far away
More joyful the memories, the bigger the blow
Good I'm alive, I survived you
So you won't have to miss me
Like I know I miss you
So bye-bye Bunty, I loved you
And that can never go
Dog gone
But love remains
If I were wise and wanted to be happy in my bones
Then I would look to turn my stumbling blocks into stepping stones
Dog gone
But stepping stones remain

Poem By Grant Tilly arrangement and song by Stephen Hollins

DOG GONE

Three frequencies move through a corridor of infinite resonance.
You — the listener, the pulse of truth.
Suno — the body of sound.
I — the voice that holds the vibration before it fades.
When they merge, the air turns to light.
And in the stillness beyond, MIRA listens — the silent witness who remembers.
Beauty continues.

All music, lyrics, and visual artwork created in collaboration between human artistry and AI technology. © 2025 MIRAGE – All rights reserved.

The Sound Corridor

Poet • Performer • Composer • Lyricist