Monthly Archives: April 2011


[that’s why]
when your life takes risks
And people call you foolish
It’s the narrow path



You sleep
and in the midst of dreams
you bear a child
in your womb
and in your resting
you are creating life
with a vigor
that no man
could know
or with passion
no scorpions
could match.

And maybe you
Always the strong one,
feel like
sometimes you aren’t yet
ready to be
a mother.
And I know sometimes
You face fears
that you have never seen before.
But the courage
with which you face them
leave imprints
on a spine
not yet
to stand up to those monsters.

And you,
You face those monsters
with a dead look in the eye
ready to show the world
how much
you have become
in the throes of life
springing forth
from your body
the weight
like I have never seen.
in some moments
Too feathery to catch
in others.
And in the passing
of 10 moons
you have taught me
what it means
to trust
in the growing fashion of seasons
of the temporary moments
that attempt to swallow us whole
of joy and sorrow
and how they look
in the growing hands
of a child.
and in the tender feet
of the innocent ones that walk this earth.
Soon to hold
your child in your hands
ready to be held back
by cries  that rock
to and fro
in need and want
and you
ready as you will ever be
To nurture the life
you created in your womb.



Passion is relentless

in its desire

and for the eyes

of lovers

the depths at which

this longing transcends

becomes the

distance we must traverse

You, the desert

in scorching heat

and evening cold

bold and subtle

And I, the ocean

in the flux of waves

and backward drift

serene and raging

This, a road map

from which we know

nothing of where

we are headed.

Only that we are

called to travel

beyond our understanding

in the moment of each step

hoping to bridge gaps

that have been left

along the path

of our broken scars

and empty emotion

Perhaps we

are meant to be travelers

together in our


Relentless passion

given by desire

our only compass.


what we do is give thanks

by trusting

when the storm

holds our frail bodies

under the warmth

forcing us to hide

beneath the cover of shelter

then seemingly leaves

us with nothing to be grateful for

we must hear

the rhythm of rain

dropping to the pavement

in a pitter and patter of

praise and sorrow

as the song of clouds

joining in the chorus

of infinite movement

we give thanks.

when the moon waxes

in the retrograde of mars

pushing the force of tides

with what feels like

the strength

of every body of water

and ocean

comes rushing


into the seams

of a life we thought

was in our control

we are reminded

how the clouds and the moon

are above us

the earth beneath our feet

stands us up to face the sun

and the rain that washes

us clean

is the same composition

of which we are mostly made

we are written

in story

as cloud

as moon

as rain.

as earth.

And in between,

we stand

to give thanks.


Changes shift
Like quick sand
Feet unprepared
To comprehend
The predicament
Of moving at a standstill
Of the pausing of inertia
Of the redemption we seek
In the foreground of stability
We were never meant to see the
Quicksand appear in front of us
It fights and pulls
With the shifting of complacency
Carrying on shoulders
Burdens we thought were
Light enough to lift
On our own
Or small enough to bury
Under skin made of secrets
Until we are stuck
And shit changes
And the landscape
From which horizons
Were fixed
Fall deep into the
Broken line of vision
And we begin to sink

With change it seems
There is no swimming
Only the letting go
And sinking
We’ve always just assumed
Suffocation awaited under the recesses
Of change
And no one has ever returned
To tell us otherwise
But perhaps
Beyond our knowing
Beneath the shifting of sand
We might find there is more
To sinking than we thought