ABOUT

Woman in white blouse and dark vest sitting by window

Lindsey Royal Wayland is a poet, calligrapher, and researcher whose work captures the subtle beauty of everyday details. Wayland’s poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Bellevue Literary Review, Southern Humanities Review, swamp pink, The Florida Review, The Amsterdam Review, The Harvard Advocate, The Citron Review, The Haiku Society of America’s journal Frogpond, and others. A finalist for the 2025 Barbara Deming Memorial Fund’s Money for Women, the 2024 New Letters Patricia Cleary Miller Poetry Prize, and the 2024 Fugue Poetry Contest, Wayland’s poetry has been supported by multiple Arts Commission grants, the Washburn-Hayes merit scholarship, and a South Porch Artist Residency.

A decades-long student of philosophy, psychology, theology & spirituality, Wayland holds a BA in Poetry and Psychology. She also earned a Master of Fine Arts in Poetry from Pacific University.

Her newsletter, ALL DAY, is a living inquiry into everyday presence, poetic perception, and creative reflection. It offers essays and writing that invite a deeper way of seeing and engaging with the world.

A fifth-generation Texan, Wayland lives with her husband and three children in the Texas Hill Country.

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I'm making a museum of human habits. What's one small gesture you repeat often? I lift my glasses from the right-bottom side of the tortoise shell rim with my right index finger.
Every one of my callings rang until I answered.
Dear Sunday: the art of nota bene I wrote my first Dear Sunday! lindseywayland.substack.com
"What did you do as a child that made the hours pass like minutes? Herein lies the key to your earthly pursuits." -CG Jung What filled your childhood? Me: I was always outside. I wrote poems in the woods, in the garden, on the trail. I li
Some things are countable.
Already this year I've captured the punctuation of uncountable letters, though one portrait in particular moved me from where I was before it to where I was after it, maybe that's what all of this is. Being moved. Changing from before something to af
In some dreams I have the strangest throat. 🏹🏷️🔦⏳🪃🪟🛝👽🙏🏼🦷🎒🗝️🫖📖🍑
🍑🍂🌅🍯🎨📻🕰🪵🪨⚖️🕯🎠
Mood
What do you know of listening? Who taught you to listen? Is the art of listening also a creative endeavor? Can one listen and not be heard? Monday musings and poems in my voice box, vibrating in air.
Using ears and mouth in proportion.
In a house, some lamps are house plants.
Woman lying on the floor reading a book, with papers, a pen, and glasses nearby, black and white photo.
Blurred silhouette of a woman reading a book by a window.
Black and white photo of a woman squatting near a river, holding a leaf, with trees in the background.
Black and white photo of a woman in a library, holding a book titled "Women" with open books on the floor.
Black and white photo of a woman reflected in a window with brick background.
Black and white portrait of a woman with chin-length hair, wearing a suit jacket, touching her hair.