May whatever comes
sit gentle over your heart
May all the threatening voices
be stopped by a valiant kind-thought
Here too lies your joy in this day
during this hour at your current address.
May today offer you the peace that already resides inside.

I want to stay away
because it find it loving
to get out your way.
Boulders do not move
rarely do any obstacles we face willingly depart
but I am not a rock I am a person and I choose to
get out of your path
so you can get on with your life
and thrive where you see fit
among those you call good company
where things flourish and fly off
from the belly of your joy

(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

Heart
illuminate my travels
turn my attention towards my emotions
and let them be my map
my mind does not see

I think of ways I can brighten my own day
today I stood on a an escalator as Crowded House played on my phone and for the remainder of that descent
down the moving stairs
to the underground subway line 9
I fell so deeply into life that I couldn’t help but smiling at everyone and tapping my feet
and I was reminded of how much I truly love life
of how good it is to fall into the moment

I thought of ways I could live in this moment and create the joy I always wanted in my life and suddenly
without much thought my inner climate became just that as I rode on a mundane staircase the destination found me
And I might not know how all the pieces fit together but I do not need to know

It unwraps like a hanker-chief sack
and the longing and sadness
are left on display over the squared fabric

Who knows if it would be advantageous
if I could shake it off like a dog this cold wet sorrow
that shows up
who knows
if I ask a child
they might indeed
will give me wise and honest counsel
(maybe they know)
the simplest answer
could be buried under a mountain
of fears, of conditioning, and adult foolishness

the solution might be simple

I just do not want to be
who I am not

I want to sit by the beach over the sand
hear the waves roll in and out and
share this life

share and be valued the same way I deeply value all creatures
be heard the same way I try to hold space for others

be given devotion the same way I devote
Equal give and equal take

a world and safe space to be heard, walked with

Its just that  what ever I wear, who ever I meet does not matter if they truly cannot see or hold space for me
if they cannot let me
be me

You tug at me
and I want to close my eyes
and tug back

Today I changed my agreement with the world
and I am willing to become what I want to see more of
I am willing to not just to fly low, but soar
I am noting afraid of not landing over land
I am strong enough to land
I am wise enough to know I am not the flying, the altitude or in any way extraordinary  
I know I am ordinary
and I know deep down who I really am
and so we begin arms open

Hear me when I cannot speak to you
don’t you ever let anyone not even me make you feel like your not entitled to make mistakes

You are far too precious to think actions and events define you,
you define and give meaning to them

Some days I hold space for the tears

some people go out and buy new dresses
cut their hair
say mean things or ask “ why me?”
some find a pretty face
or a temporary generous hand

I just sit and cry
because I am just sad that is all

some go out and shop,
some drink their way to swim out their sorrow
but I don’t buy many things
and I am not a heavy drinker

I just lock myself in the bathroom stall and cry when the feeling comes on strong

some move
and some delete everything
I think everything in life is a gift
and with time I want to see this as one


some, many, people,others
do “X” who knows what the way to go
is...

...just have to let the tears fall so I feel cleansed

It is just that when I close my eyes I see purple and I
understand that we must not feel disconnected for our souls that is definition of a life squandered


It is just that purple was my grandmother’s favorite color
and I remember her singing to me
and I remember sleeping overnight over
over a stiff hospital chair
the times after being released from the hospital when I would sit with her for half an hour and gently peel off the medical tape- when skin is old it is very gentle and it takes tenderness and warm water to soften the glue


It is just that the world can have my love
and my life
and my disguise
it just I see purple when I close my eyes
and  I am done

and beginning
at the same time

Things your eyes say:


Your eyes are beautiful, not because of their color or their shape, but because of their gleam as you tilt your head closer and embrace the person next to you.
I know you understand the gift of a small kindness, of a well-meaning "hello,"  and that is why your eyes captivate me with their soft syrup sweetness. They seem doused in sincerity, and it shows. No human makes it to this field of kindliness without crossing the mud moats of pain, but you awoke today and chose warmheartedness' aromatic nectar. And the world reaps its benefit

the conclave is over and the smoke has risen white what are we to do with all this possibility, what are we to do but take into our hands

it is time I really started living

I have the strange feeling that I have wasted too many lifetimes
so during this one I chose to stick to spirit
to walk as close as I can to it
May the trees be hierophants

Let the world reveal its sacredness
I am open to receiving
this is the season
the lifetime
I am led by spirit

Are you conscious of the power
your thoughts and words have to create

when you awake dear
do you say thank you, too

do you like excessively warm showers
do your toes turn red as you stand there, too
?

and have you learned to pray even if you do not call it by that name

Do you meditate
do you see divinity in everything
can you see god–the all– in the swaying of the leaves
have I met you

I am here
alive at the same time as you

you can come in dream if you wish

there is no guilt in the worn tares of imperfection
there is no need to fold the cloth in such a manner that hides them; I see them with quiet love-filled eyes

I sink my finger into your skin
and my words into your soil
and ask that you simply slow down
  enough to see the blossoms over me  
   How they rest in equal quantity
within the fleshy tenderness of my human life
   our shared pulse can be felt by putting your hand
over your own heart...
    that is us together, that is us
      –life

I sit in front of a glistening lake
so beautiful but so deep
I am almost scared to reach in further
so deep down that I tremble
but I want to look deeper at myself
I don’t want the things I push down to rule me so I do not wait for them instead I call them
“ what ever abides there within, rise so that I may hold you. I am stronger now and kinder and my compassion is wider. Now, I can truly see you. Please, come. “

I love you genteelly
like the flapping of a birds’ wings
turns into a whisper at night

I love you genteelly
like the water that calmly flows
down the brook through the thicket
and over pebbles

It is fleeting:
the sky and the leaves
and I.

It does not sit right with me that any baby girl
Might inherent this world as it is
That “this” is what we choose to uphold
That “we” collectively hold each pole in place
And try to cover it with a tarp and call it a an exquisite
Manifestation of a world
That small limited obstructing vision of what we should camp through live in
It does not sit right, so reach inside of me and with my two hands
And unzip my mouth
Might who choose to present as girls in live in a better and kinder world

If there is still hope of a life to come that is beautiful, fulfilling and nourishes my the being –even through the thick wilderness of  hefty uncertainty–let it come

I do not want to suffer self denial;
if there is still courage inside
this frame of mine
let it visit me daily when I am most afraid
and remind me: I deserve joy

I have to sit with all my “I don’t knows” until I know –until a clear answer emerges.

I loosen my eyes and the suddenly the whole world appears before me
and I smile
and there is no reason
or perhaps every reason stand before me
evident, luminous, unified
that I cannot tell where it begins and where it ends
or even if my nature is separate from this joy

I have decided that in this lifetime I must not give up
I must indeed go further in
wring out the chatter
wring out the events some might deem unfortunate
wring them until life giving water is released
enough to grow beautiful things

I must start rethinking
I must start giving others the opportunity
to come closer

I must extend a hand
and slowly inch towards something new
as do the branches of a tree
as do I
as does everything that tilts towards the sun
over this earth when it wishes to grow

My best friend’s girlfriends name is Kat. We talked about jazz, Palmdale and drummer, writers, poetry, therapy and love– outlives transformed by it. The sun rose where I was and the sun was setting where he was. It said it was so beautiful and he started to cry and I started to cry. We said “I love you” and ended our call.

My high school was on Martin Luther King Blvd across the street from the Los Angeles colosseum, the sports arena and the Exposition park
I spoke your name so many times when telling my aunt on which street to drop me off when my parents where too busy to take me to school, when telling the pizza guy where to deliver the food, when asking the bus driver “Does this bus stop near MLK boulevard?”

Your name like your legacy permeated the streets on the other side of town and was carried on the tongue of the urban fleet
of feet commuting, living, making a dime, trying to spread visions of a loving world

we inherit your words and they are gifts and we honor them today
I am happy your name never left
it enveloping
humanely birthing hope
in us it remains

You emerge from the summer’s heat
sun kissed–
the short warm nights
and the long hours of daylight
have given you ample time
to spread your toes and your thoughts over the grass
Soon, it will be solstice
And the sun will command the skies

new
        intentional
                             heartwarming
                                                    ­   family before art
                                                             ­   two drinks sibling chat
                                              while singing & trying to match pitch    
                              buying cempasuchil with ma
                my nieces as MOA & Hair Artist (I never escape their birthday parties without proper styling by their 5 years old hands)
all the silliness I can muster, because we won't be making it our of this life alive
everything else for the world
   the door of the heart open for charming
           the mind ready for growing
                  thoughts like arrow on the positive
                        always a new place to see
                             whatever, shall I do ... find a new album
                             find a new book ...find a beginning or some
                            


                                 ­                                                           


                                                   beginnings

The pollen swooped down gallantly
to cause a fuzz inside the nostrils of all neighborly humans strolling down the paved walkways. It was here in summer’s heat that all humid thoughts soaked her and left her smelling of her own sweat.

She should of picked another hour, a different time of day to go out and water the plants, but routine is hard to beat.

Little twist of hope in my hands this bird feathered and new flies

behind my eyes,  a girl sits with a smile

how simple to be peaceful, how simple to be a smooth pebble but still a sturdy rock

I never thought my wings could be so warm, could spread this far and shield everything around me in my *****
nurture and protect the little sparks of light
flickering like stars yet to grow
and transform this world
some older, some younger, some that I have yet to meet

I pull back the first layer
carefully, making sure not to be harsh

I pull back further
until this layer comes off

one by one
until I am no longer naked
but clothed by it all

I do not believe in cutting down the wilderness within a girl

I let the one that wants to stomp, stomp around
I let the gentle ones speak softly and or nod their heads to say yes

I watch them carefully each one so different that  I am careful not to  throw fire into a cool river or more wood into a blazing fire
I watch them because then I can can truly point them down the footpath that leads to their own doorstep  

I am present with them so that I can tell when the one that stomps has had enough

I am observant so that when gentle one is too gentle I can metaphorically hold their hands and lower my voice and ask them to tell me what they truly think

I must be attentive with them all
with their energies with their natures with their way of being

they are wild in their own way and I want them to keep it but not be limited by it
I want them to be what they are but also grow into fuller forests that when any being beholds them they feel a wholesome richness because they never lost it

Do I take a step towards love
or go the other way
And take a step towards fear

I always pick love because it’s not a sentiment, it is the highest wave.

I always pick love even if they laugh at me for dreaming or scold me
Who is to know how life is to be lived

There a is wound...

–and the salt over it  
and four hundred years suspended over us
and tired hands that keep laying brick for tomorrow

and hymnals passed down to give strength
and blood flowing as naturally from the bodies of men as it does from the bodies of women  
and silence that is wise telling us this is wrong –one man's knee over another man's neck
and justice screaming from the window at its home
that its real name is "love"–

and we must heal it.

Some days I feel you, right in the center of my chest. I do not know how else to describe it.

I am grateful for the morning sun that awakens me through the window
it’s warm light brings me joy
I am grateful that I am endlessly strong
and loved
I am grateful that every year life takes me where I want to, no matter the outcomes
How magical is it that all I set forth comes back to me
That no love is too small or wasted
That there are no words uttered that go unheard
and no prayer unanswered
it is a matter of closing your eyes and listening


I am grateful for this small, fragile lump of mass, and this lifetime

“Tomorrow I will wake up and cry out of joy or sorrow when I check the election results”
“Tomorrow morning I am going to cry”
“It’s so close”
“It will be interesting to see the voting demographics“
“It will be too close to call”
“Poles close at 9:00pm “
“We won’t know tomorrow. They have to count the mail in ballots”
“Let’s not stress ourselves thinking about it”
“I know, but I just wish it wasn’t”
“I don’t know”
“I wouldn’t be surprised anymore”

A loving presence that holds everything
and has room to hold everything I feel
       I try to shift to this
slowly with practice with devotion I will get there
i am creature of habit and devotion
i will get there

In a deeper way
in a more wholesome one
I understand
you cannot teach someone
what you yourself have not learned
or what you yourself do not allow
Joy
Freedom
Self love
love of the others
Gratitude
Devotion
And the endless list of qualities and states of mind continue

you cannot pass down and teach what you yourself do not know
what you do not surrender full heartedly too
it is not in your hands to hand down
it is not flowing through you

you must step back
re-approach yourself and learn

why are you doing this
       the longest day of summer of has come
and you inch towards the darkness

arresting migrants off the street
       law you call it, crime you name it
to flee for refuge somewhere else

why are you doing this
       there is a refugee, a cave lion, a tiger,
a jaguar who traveled far & wide

they are not weak; they are not alone
       you cover your face and take them
but one day when the light is the shortest cat

out in the alley watching
          this unlit terror fade the tribunals
will begin and they will knock

at your door looking for Schutzstaffel
          & the camp garrison
and ask you why were you doing that?

It is never ending:
the warble of mystery
and the rebirthing of life
and us with our many eyes.

No,
I am
Gentle.

this hope
it lights up the sky
and there is no fighting
its right to rise
among all the debris of the past

All I ask is that you carry me through this season how you have carried me through this living
Always opening the right doors always filling me with light because I am need of a gentle hand that knows how sooth blisters
perhaps it is my left hand returning to greet  my right with balm and gauze
but I ask of ye to aid their swift embrace of me