I get to listen and be taught by living
masters in my craft
I am amongst the youngest between them
I am there to soak up it
again
I take cement to cloudy city days
and break all expectations places on me
as I create the path no one thought could be carved out


It is not my time yet it is theirs their blooming flowers mine, ours, the world’s to appreciate

but it is indeed my time to learn
to sit in a kindred embrace of the art of life
the divinity that language can point to
it is my time to stir world in my belly

Thank you for loving me even if you never kissed me
thank you for existing even if it is not here next to me
Thank you, and I wish you well
I wish you comfort and a full heart
I wish you love and I wish you great joy

You are as bright as any star and in my eyes your, you have still got so much left to give the world and I hope you never forget, even when the going gets tough

I am scared that I will be disappointed but I am aware and I am trying to face my fear
whether I succeed or not whether I can do it or not is not the bottom line
it is whether I can accept myself, liberate myself enough to try

A life I can live is a life where I have tried tirelessly
tried my hardest,
tried my best
took the risk
took the leaps for the things
that really meant something to me
because I now know I do not regret
having left it all for something that could have been

Be still waters
do not be late day break
be with me dear beloved
as I make my way through the day

I can bear the weight of my own light

in it rests my being

when I am there
there is no need to listen I move within it
and with it
and I know where I should go
when I listen to the path my life wants to take
and I honor its pull it leads me to next right place which is always now

Three people paint the subway station with life
the horn announces that the next train is coming bound for the seoul

Some days I still cry for a love that never lifted a hand but claimed with love songs it’s presence
still I wake up some days sad  

I sit with pain sharing a of drink in the morning
And eat biscuits of hearty realigning perspective
My worth placed over my two hands like a small tender bird
I must take care of it

For me there is was only love I wanted to give
everytime it felt easy
natural to give
that was all
all I intended to do
and when I held my hand out
there was nothing
except the wind that blew
and I knew your hand wasn’t for me or else it would of decided to reach out too

I do not regret a thing
you mean that much to me
that I would take the leap again even if I got a do over
I mean so much to myself, I would give myself the opportunity to go after what made my heart sing

I should think more.

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

Everyday is a new day and if we can drop all the stories that limit us
and confine us
then it can truly be a new beginning

we are always a day away from a more profound life
from reaching my again courageously to the things we thought were lost to rekindle and renew to offer ourselves the possibility of joy

this is our human superpower, tender gentle and graceful we are despite our worst acts

Benny Moré’s music cushions my night
his voice plays, as I open
and then read a hand drawn
card by a dear friend

how with all her joy
my joy as well wishes to come out
in celebrations of the beauty
she has found
in sunflower seeds, in plants
and the learning Spanish

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

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

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

There has always been something very shy about me
that made me stop and look at plants and sense the trees
be around other quiet things
there has always been something too painfully shy in me that when it matters most I cannot speak
it is not that I stop feeling it’s just that I am overwhelmed with so much that I feel dizzy and flustered

I see it now
it is a slab of concrete that I have to break slowly through

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 came early in the morning.


They were preparing. Hands over squares of egg sheets being cut into long rectangular shapes in anticipation of the orders that some might make later that day. The woman cutting the yellow sheets sang and bickered with the rest. Age does not steal one’s fire or ; they laughed together(not does it steal ones smile)

I waiting patiently for my food watching diligence

We can love people that do not love themselves
and we see the mirror
I did not love myself

If I did why would accept that sorrow
do I not know avoidable sorrow is not okay

did I feel okay with countless suffering
why, how did I absorb this behavior
was it in the way my father drank away his sorrow
was it in the tv programs that said I had to always be a good girl and be sweet even if it cost me my own well being

Where ? Was it from my mother who thought it was best to raise her kids with a man she did not love anymore because that is “stable”
they were never stable
two separate stable ones would of been better

was it them or the world
who knows
but I wept because I did not love myself
because I was not taught
the relationships around me did not show me this and so I lacked it

Sometimes I press my hand to my chest when this feeling comes and I close my eyes
who is it?
who calls me at this time
sometimes it is my mother or my brother
sometimes my childhood friends
sometimes it feels like an older brown eyed man
each of them different strings
but when I concentrate I can work my way back to the source
I don’t know how but I don’t need to know

What do I do with this love in my chest:
I let it roam the room because when it is stuck inside it feels repressed, and I hear it when I come back from work banging on the door

Some days it shows up on one of my walks
and I let linger by my side
I acknowledge it so
I speak to it “ this is a normal part of getting older isn’t it ...the getting your heart ripped out, right ?”
it answers “ only metaphorically”

Sometimes it’s an unexpected coffee shop song that like a lamp that is stroked three times lets the genie out
“Make three wishes” it utters in my direction

“First that only good comes of this”
“Second, that there be light which illuminates him for the rest of his days”
“ three: that this makes me a kinder human being”

nurturing blossom
cold winter hails dreary days
may I take heart
in the spirit of your
nature
find it on my silent walks
may I not freeze as the world around me does so
keep warm in your hope
keep me close to you, I need your  stem to lean on

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.

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

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

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

I will not pucker up my lips and try to kiss you
I will deliver poetry over your tongue and ask you how it tastes
I will be what I am with my fragrance
eternally unrivaled as is yours, theirs and everyone’s else’s
our uniqueness solidified at birth

Let there be beauty
Let there be forgiveness
Let there be renewal

you are a stream that flows
and I no longer ask why
you flow in that direction

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

Do you still believe in the immense beauty of life ?

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

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

let the prairie grow around me
with its yarrow and smooth blue asters
scattered amongst it a few rough blazing stars with wild bergamot

let them envelop me
and do not leave a hedge between them and me

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

I will wait for you here
said spring to winter
until you are ready

May there be beauty and joy in your life that is my never ending wish for you

May the breeze carry it to you silently
without the weight of words to slow it down

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

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

I want silence.
I want the sounds of the wind and the leaves to be the only music I hear. I want my friends’ voices to be the light posts I stand under.

I want like all summer wishes to turn into Fall. A deciduous.

Light of mine
I hold on dearly to you

Metaphorical winters
are worse than any sub zero days

Warmth
glinting of the soul
I embrace you with both my hands
and I give this living all I have got

I empty my pencil case over the wooden surface of my table it is time to pour out all the colors and use them to scribble
to jot down and dream something lovelier

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