I
Flamboyán whispers,
wrapped gently by the nightfall
the coquí sings true.
II
Clouds become soft quilts,
dreams live curled in the branches
under a sky full of stars.
III
The breeze calls my name,
it smells of earth and heartbeat
my soul finds its rest.
I’ve always said I want to be buried underneath the sapling of a flamboyan tree, be reborn and live through storms and hurricanes as my leafs fall and regrow. I think it would be a blessing to be reborn.