The quiet helps

It rearranges the pieces and it maps out the

rest

It inundates the outside voices and timelines for what human living ought be like and it frees me

and in my palms it lays an offering

and calmly whispers “here”

Wake from slumber

today nothing weighs

and what we have is, is what we need

and what makes our hearts sing

tells us where we ought to go and around who

we ought to be

when we listen

the song of change is all that can be heard,

not the perceived “strong” or the perceived “weak”

can wake from slumber complete

and be able to navigate

with ease this reality

only the ones who accept change

can make it through this

which we call life or so it seems

Chameleons of living

I look in the mirror and I try to change color...
I am unsuccessful but I laugh; slowly I know the world is changing and so  am I. I try to greet it all      with little to  no resistance.


Today nothing weight

as the intervals of presence become longer as the intervals of thinking which interrupt it
become shorter
I slip deeper into this living

I feel you at the oddest times.
how could it be ?
Is it even you ?

There is still the loveliness of today that roams through the quiet moments and the mystical dream of what this world could be and what it already is
All things change and nothing is ever set that’s the real magic

I will pick up the whispers over the dry patches of land amongst the chaparral

the womxn who births over the earth in a dense city bears the name of “mother” when I call out

The long fabric roll unfolds her story and the those of the ones she calls “brother” and “nana”. Crafty hands and animal loving eyes set to see the sunrise over the North American sky reflect its light over the railroad fabric and back into my eyes

I pick up the radio waves, the ones my cousins, my friends, my sibling and my grandparents heard as they serenaded each other or played music in the living room . It was always static I could never make it out. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz

A static buzz was all I could hear for a very long time.

Then the two bars of 8 beats for salsa; the 4/4 ballads I always giggled and stumbled my way through at parties when the old folks got up to dance, and I would grab my one of my best friends and give it a go

the endless ways in which I was taught to feel the world around me, to weave myself into the music, into words, into this earth and into light begins to carry me through hard seasons,
and I understand now if life is meaningless, If I am only an irrelevant speck in this cosmic ocean the best “****  you” the ultimate undoing of this
is to live a life of meaning, and burn bright and authentically until there is nothing left and this existence is enough

(in truth it has always been enough)

I want to just walk up to you and hug you.
I do not want to offend by being so bold, but in dreams I still long to kiss you

I open my palms, and try my best to liberate you
but then the wind picks up
and I start to cry
I cannot even hold onto myself
for those few minutes I feel half dead
and sun it feels like it doesn’t orbit anymore