What do you do

When you have unaccomplished days—

Tasks are left on lists to fend

For themselves,

Errands are impatiently waiting

Just to find out their precious time

Has been rescheduled

At an unknown date, or if they're lucky,

Maybe tomorrow.

The only thing you are capable of

Getting done

Is making sure you're taking the time

To breathe—

So go ahead a breathe—

That's accomplishment enough.

If we're in our eighty's
And you thought of me
Relax and don't worry
Days have passed of me being weary

Now I'm floating, not in heaven
Nor purgatory and hell even
I'm one of the stars which the night livens
Smiling like when I was eleven.

I release the tension in my lower body.
I accept all sensations the way they are.
I release the tension in my upper body.
I accept the sensations the way they are.
I release the tension in my eyes and I close them.

Tomorrow is tomorrow
I let go of stress and sorrow
Letting go, deep breath in
Long breath out, settle in.

A row of tabs with titles in hiding,
Each one a witness to the weight of today
The clock ticks louder, each second sharp,
Echoing the resolve she’s forced to obey
When did life slip into this solemn tone?

Her hand hovers, drawn to a magazine,
Its cover untouched, still crisp and clean
She peels it open, and there it is—
The faint smell of paper, a balm for her soul.

Not pages of profit or the season’s couture,
But the world of Bobo, the blue rabbit and friends
Bright illustrations, laughter tucked in each corner,
A refuge from journals and theories that age her too soon.

Here, she remembers a simpler time,
A decade past, when her world felt lighter
This magazine, still standing, still waiting,
The same one that sparked her love for the written word.

She smiles,
Because even amidst the seriousness,
A pause is enough to bring her home.

How do you like your tea?

I smiled.

Assam strong.
A dash of skinny milk.
And a view across the Thames.

Pass me the hot Cheetos
while we Netflix and chill

Order the pizza
while I get a refill

I'll choose the movie
And you pay the bill.

When I lay awake in bed, I envision
My pillow as a comforting polyester lap
Lightly cradling my burdensome head,
That I may cast aside all prior worries, and
Momentarily forget that tomorrow exists:
I confidently close my weary eyes, and
Gently drift asleep.

when I was in Japan,
I reached in my bag for yen,
I drew a coin with the Zia on it
given to me by a gem
as I stared at the cold breezy mountains of Japan holding this, I  was reminded of
The deep Roots of cracked hot concrete I would work out on
The smell of albondigas Nana would be making
The bright yellow and blue tile mismatched on the lining of the kitchen
The simpleness of living in a "this'll work" architecture
the tumbleweeds, the dry cacti landscape, vast dirt reaching to the dark amber mountains, painted with fading perfect blend from the sunset, homemade meals, la raza, tias and tios, the stray cats and dogs (and family pet names)

My Arizona desert was so hot that everything did its best to share being in the Cool casted shadows.

yet here I was in the complete opposite wishing for that sun
holding this coin brought be back to when you thought I would Judge where you were from
but your "Land of Enchantment" will always remind me of being one step closer to home...