poems

flowering


my Love is more
than even the wildest wild rose
an unrestrained, and
captivating beauty—the rarest

flower
tumbling up into the sky, and freer
than the swiftest starling
but still, this singular flower is
rooted

firmly, deeply, ever inextricably
in this soil

in this rich and moist and black
soil,

rooted ever so deeply inside
this deep deep love

flowering

airspace

i dream skies clear blue
an airspace of love and peace
encircling one world

“You may say I’m a dreamer”, but in fact, what comes first: the dream or the day? Imagination or reality? Perhaps the difference between the two (dream and day, imagination and reality) is not so distinct after all—one bleeding into the other as our dreaming and waking worlds are nothing more than a continuum of one consciousness, of one stream in time and space navigating terrains all at once sublime, spellbinding, and atrocious.

“You may say I’m a dreamer”, but is it not the dream that gives rise to words articulated and actions initiated? And ultimately to that concept which we call “reality”—which is indeed precisely that, a concept, a conceptualization of the mind. It is the mind which dreams and thinks and creates. It is the mind, consciousness itself, which is the ultimate “reality”. We all dream; we are all dreamers—inevitably. So direct your dreams and your desires beyond what you have been taught is possible, beyond the visible horizon and into skies of clear blue.

“I see no conflict between reality and imagination. They are not in fact separate. Our real lives hold within them our royal lives; the inspiration to be more than we are, to find new solutions, to live beyond the moment. Art helps us to do this because it fuses together temporal and perpetual realities.”

~Jeanette Winterson

again

~a short meditation on flight, five~

and into this house of the sun 
i am carried again
swept up
held, and
laid down in its luster
soft center churning gold
into golden
rims
burning and brimming full
fuller and fuller, thicker and
rounder, rounder rims
        we 
                p
                   l
                      u
                           n
                           
                                      g
                                             e
and we
                 d
                      i
                            v
                              e


and then we  f l  y    f o r    f o  r   e    v     e      r
in all
and in every
d    i    r    e    c    t    i    o    n


again

Querencia

onto my screen
"querencia" saunters
announcing herself fresh
like an ocean breeze
and like the lightest foam on this sea's shore
she is the trending word
she is trailing her footsteps all across
the social media sand dunes 
"querencia
querencia
querencia" 
i repeat after the computer-generated voice
google translated
"querencia"—its quick to softness 
melts in my mouth
i'm caught i like it and i succumb 
like butter to the sun
"Gotcha!" she laughs
with a wry wink and a wave
and saunters again, 
this time off 
towards some shimmering coral-pink horizon
beyond my screen

querencia~querencia~querencia*
my love 
my heart
untamed roses and
my diamond in the sky 

*a Spanish metaphysical concept on the place from which one's strength and/or inspiration is drawn; where one feels most authentic, safe, and at home