On some mornings I wake from a dream of you
and there is so much longing that my words cannot express it
my entire body feels tender like the skin that grows after a burn
pink, sensitive and vulnerable

During days like these the thought of you does more than tingle through me
it sits over me and for a few minutes I can move without acknowledging it

The bridge has been laid with marigolds
,the prayers and the candles
and mention of your name
calls you to this world

Todo ah sido preparando

Walk with me today, give me strength for this season I am in need of it more than the rest. Come whisper counsel and tell me what this world was to you

Dame aliento para continuar

I welcome you with all my heart; todo mi corazon se alegría de tú llegar

When the sun rises and a thought of you appears I neither angry nor do I plunge into sadness there is only longing knocking on my door.

What are you under the sunlight
when the day reveals you to the world

how do you smile in the early hours of the morning as you let the the whispers of grace guide you and the thoughts of gratitude fill you

who are you when you do not pretend
when you are at peace with who you are

It is good to lose sadness on a long walk and find serendipity attached to a piece of bread to find the divinity and the magic  of life that follows when we close our eyes and steer toward the direction that calls to you.

Elizabeth Fraser sings me angelic tunes through the speaker and I become a circling girl.

Know that every stone of love that was stacked for you is still there
–sturdy–it’s presence enduring

from the time you were a child
to the time you began stretching out of your jeans and outgrowing your pairs of shoes  

To the very first white hair that grew
–almost suddenly-–without you realizing
so much time had gone by

all the love that was given stays
holds residence in your body
Hold a home in your being
is never part
and is forever your gift

Friendship is a light illuminating the room
a window letting in the sun and warming what would otherwise be a cold winter

I care...
slowly from below the grass I care that trees grow
that everything flourishes
that you are surrounded by love
that this lifetime be kind
that our dreams
that art
feeds reality

Do not worry
all becomes lost in that ocean of thought today just feel the wind and sun
your nature is that of calm

I understand now why your only album was named “Grace”.

I am ready to run with the wolves
I am not undecided
I am absolute and solid in the steps I take
I came with others into this world
who too
  cannot understand why is it a man is   unequal
  why gender constructs
and why we treat earth like a *******
why we accept what we could change

Timber wolves howling

in the winter of our era we breed, breed new life

(We need them
we need a phone
these days)
the reverberations of this
thought echoes through my
head


emails,
texts,
test results,
code verifications
identity confirmations
coordinating with friends
finding directions
self check ins

the endlessness is built on an abundance of thought
curiosity expanding and seeking ground

then why do I feel drained when a new task is added to the amount of things my phone can do
why do I feel zapped out of energy like a fly who starred at an alluring light only to be shocked at the outcome



... the list grows

The pile gets higher and higher

The day has been so long my dear friend
I have yet to answer the Stars with my prayers

keep me ever mindful; nothing is owed
overwhelm me with love for the sake of love
do not shrink my heart
give me courage in this lifetime

for love
it serves the world and without it there is deep despair

so place it upon my eyes
may I see all being through it

May the sacred and the intimate guide me,
tilt me towards my soul and towards the great cosmos
to everything that can only be felt

My heart is warm and my love is not a sin
my love is blessing that makes the flowers grow
and lifts life from the ground
my love is a warm breeze
and I cannot go on thinking my love destroys
or that it has got a bad scent

My love is profound and above all it is a gift
tender and gentle
lovingly finding spring even in winter

some part of me waits “ for what?” I ask
I think back to the night I saw you
you were good on luck
work was good and you were busy
too busy to chat,
too busy full of good luck to make room

I thought it was good so I smiled and sat silently waited for you there.

But when you came you sat across the table as far as you could possibly get from me
too busy in thought you didn’t even really say a word

Then I felt like an inconvenience like a pole people moved around
so I left

I came too far
and I gambled too much on you
jumped off the cliff thinking your love would be a net

I left that day feeling half dead.
I couldn’t feel my myself. Couldn’t cry for the next few days. I just wanted it to be a horrible nightmare. A bad joke.

So I ask that part me “ what are you waiting for” is it the punch line ?
And it tells me “ I am waiting for my love”
and I just cry...

everything is spoken into existence
life begets life they say
and so I wonder what part of life dram me into existence
called me forth from the womb of imagination
who saw me before i was someone
and called a person like I onto this earth

all the tools are here in this shed of a chest
i need just grab one

There is just this calm underlying love that slowly unfolds and eats up the fear

and so I write you
keeping it short
keeping my heat away  
trying to at least salvage friendship
because it care for you
and I hope you were right about time

so far it doesn’t seems to be lending a hand
I just accept that I must really just love you
and well that’s where I’m at for now

sometimes if you are really still
–and your limbs are branches–
–and your breath is the wind–
you can feel the earth turn.

I gather the riveting shards of glass
that have pounced like garden cats at the sight of a moth
when cracked by the simple act of you
pulling your hand away

I will build you a temple with words of resounding beauty
of all the dreams collected from the spores and the pollen of spring
so that among the trembling uncertainty you rise
surrounded by weightless warmth
fully formed and grasping
floating magnolias and light

cheeks sweetened and eyes pearled
gleaming to joy, while your tongue unfolds its language
and learns to pick up chisel
learns to pick up hammer
and guild its own temple

We have been friends for 15 years her and I
like the waves that retreat to the sea
and then come back to the shore
we change shape so often
in the smallest of ways
but the essence, it never changes
it is her marrow, her quintessence  her light that burns bright

we were born four days apart
"for the fishies" she had engraved  
on a leather journal she gifted me years ago
I take it everywhere I travel

the years go
the seasons go
the days go
without a visit
and somehow we listen to the same things
same albums –shamelessly repeating them
until everyone around us has had enough–

I laughed so hard when she wrote to me
how could it be
telepathy? lol

Flashbacks of laying on the floor listening to music for hours
sharing headphones
singing our little hearts out

shamelessly repeating and repeating
shamelessly drowning in the sonic landscape

fishes who still know they are indeed
surrounded by water
flowing through it and calling it "life"

Blanketed is this world
with permeating love
all else
is a fleeting illusion
very tactile and in that sense real
but it is not the reason we are all here

The world within me is expanding
and I can carry more things and dream more audaciously

it is colorful, and it is constantly swirling this possibility of a loving
and peaceful future

this opportunity
to drape this moment with hope

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

There is no rush to hold another hand
or to come home to anyone
there is no ticking clock
there is no date another to get over another
there is only the early morning tea, the sunlight from the window and the opportunity to frame today as a “day of gratitude” and so you see there is only this zest of wanting to live and to heal

The thought of you enters
late
when I should close my eyes
so I sent you blessings
and I try to get some rest
before the thinking gets too much
I send you my best wishes
hoping they tug at lifes’ arm cuffs and serendipitously fill you with warmth
wherever you are now

I see the two choices in front of me

I can choose to become wounded= let this moment break my heart unrepairably, so that when someone speaks of love I laugh in their face boldly and with disdain because I lack trust and have taken the long road leading as far away as possible from my vulnerability

or

I can choose to become wiser = let this moment pass and just hold onto myself as the strong winds try to knock me over because I want to believe in a good love; I do not mean a perfect love  just the kind that makes your stronger because it frees you and walks you to the door of your own beauty



I think I should become wiser.

when someone wants you
they find ways to make time for you  
they pick up the phone
they gift you their presence
they find the courage to dance along with you no matter how uncool
the folks around you might think you both are

when someone wants you in their life they let you know
simple.

I get to spend more time alone figuring out
what makes me tick
rearranging thoughts, visions of life and
getting lost in streets that seem older than me
opportunities to ponder life and live it are my companions
I find them agreeable, even mysteriously charming

Last night I could not sleep; I tossed and turned to no avail
until the body had enough
and forced the eyes to close

What is for me will flow like a river to the sea
naturally
there is no need to worry
or to forget what day it is

I am whole and everything else is a gift
given at its own time

Look at the world around you
what once they said could not be
now slowly becomes reality

80's synthesizers for the win  
put aside the nice make-up or the pretty lashes
a pair of earbud and a little DX7 pick me up playlist
and I can ride off into another sonic dimension
as I take a walk through the neighborhood

May there be more room for joy
and more room for fulfillment
May there be surprises that raise the spirits high
May there be years that take your breath away while watching the sun fall below the skyline and set

maybe I will have children
maybe I will get dozens of bees to keep
and maybe I will turn into a tree

at this point all is possible

It is fragile  this heap of skin
but even more tender is what is inside

My dear friend and my mother both had a dream of me, both worried sought me out

They make me believe in dreams. They make believe the profoundness of this tethered existence, of the subconscious rattlings, of the complexity of life that sometimes I wish to make simple, they make me believe some bonds are unbreakable
and that they can indeed feel me from even an ocean away

Do you still believe in the immense beauty of life ?

Yes, even if the door just hit me right in the face

I rise to a radiant sun and you are first on my mind.
You are too wide and expansive that I cannot write anything close to what I would like to tell you. All of them are tiny icebergs that can’t get close enough to the truth.
the truth of how so deeply I care for you
even after all this time

these icebergs
if you bump into them I hope you would recognize
my affection runs deep
always hidden below the surface and always ever-present