alligator, want a ride?

today I will put my water shoes on
and get my feet wet
i know there is an aligator in a pond
and I will take it for a ride
we may go to the river
and I will cruise on its back
and all the fish will quietly think
"what the heck?"

wine cup

give me a cup
and I'll pour the wine
from the grapes sweetened
by the summer sun
I am sure you will not mind
the fact that their skin was wrinkled
from waiting long enough
to gather the essence of sun;
we crushed them with young feet
who did not mind getting stained;
their only joy was to extract
the essence in wine;
the truth in a golden sweet wine

empty space

somebody must have put
a balloon in my heart
or else why would I feel
pressure and emptiness
at the same time?
and all this because
you decided (or maybe
it was somebody else)
that you must leave
one day and I
must stay.

but a day will come
when I will fill
my balloon with hot air
or maybe better
with lots of oxygen
and I will fly
above oceans and land
and I might hold
a hand in my hand
or a least the memory
of a hand in my brain.

(this day I may
fill many of the empty
spaces in the world
or at least in our immediate
surrounding universe
with songs and with joy;
I am thinking to ask you today
would you care
for a ride
with a hot air balloon
and perhaps an infusion
with pure oxygen?)

girl of the sea

photo from Aradena and http://www.west-crete.com
- this one is for Trudy-

she broke her chains
the girl of the sea
and she lifted her arms
for all to see she was free

she stormed through the village
eager to find
what she left behind
before she was captured by Poseidonas

she walked carefully
in disbelief
cause it seemed
she had missed about 200 years

the old houses somehow stood up
their stones as resilient as ever
even the wood confronted time
but the people have fled

perhaps they were looking for water
perhaps they were looking for work
the people have fled
but the village had tried to freeze time

the girl of the village
stood straight for a while
then run to find paint and a camera
to capture the village in a picture

she painted the village
she painted the meadow
she brought there young children
to look the past in the eye

her ties with the past severed,
her treasured, even the painful memories
she left on the ground with the stones
and she started to dance with the sun

she broke her chains
the girl of the sea
and she lifted her arms
for all to see she was free

grateful

let us be grateful for people who love other people
grateful for the shower of light they pour onto us
with their thoughts and prayers and acts
grateful for the day we begin
knowing they share it with us.

like mirrors may we reflect back unto them
their kindness when times get rough
but also let us enjoy together the days
when sun shines in the sky and love lives
happily within our hearts.

the folkoric ensemble

image from http://natura.di.uminho.pt/ARQEVO/textospa/html/pandeiro/pandeiro.htm


the old women got together
at the request of the young
and they sung;

their voices a bit rough
raised above the ground
while they sat and sung;

like shoots ready to bloom
with much force fed
from their roots;


even the cold air of winter
started to warm up
and dance

to the rhythms of the music
the old women
sung

the young women
recorded their songs with joy
so they could be relived

outside of the village
her kids would one day unwrap
a treasure of song

quote of the day

"Don't forget to tell your loved ones that you love them" Pavel Yarmolenko

weeping willow

image by Roberto Picco from Sacile (PN), Italy
- for a young girl who left ahead of her time -

she is not in her house today
she went to the river to cry
for reasons that only a young mind
can understand.
she is not here today
she will not be here tomorrow
the river has fallen in love with her tears
and wanted to keep her nearby
forever to wash her hair in its streams.
she must have turned into a weeping willow
and lives somewhere here on the river shores
and if you really miss her voice
you should bring your guitar at sunset
go to the river and quietly seat somewhere
on the shores , cause this is where
she might decide to play a tune
with her tears on your strings

be

be here for me
when our roads will finally cross
this a chance given to us
to be there for each other

be here for me
and for anybody who will cross
your path and ask for help
or maybe not

be here for me
to look me in the eye
and get to know me
and by me I mean just anybody

I in turn
will try to listen
to your steps and learn
from you how it is to walk your path

a helping hand
I'll try to lend
if those who yesterday have crossed my path
have done like that

we'll ban indifference
out of the city
if only you'd be here for me
as I will be there for you

to say hello
and mean each other well
relearn to learn instead of judging
when we cross our paths.

a little bit of this, a little bit of that

A little bit of sea
and a little bit of beach,
at the end of the road
I learned to love to walk;

a little bit of shade
under the willow tree,
and little bitty shells
to tickle all your toes;

a little bit of time
to stay there
and live live in quiet moments
found at the edge of town

a little bit of that
and a little bit of you
is all I need today
to report that I am happy.

transition

image from Ma&Pa

it is the month of may, a month of transition
at the edge between two beautiful seasons.
the colors are shifting
from the cool green of spring
to the hot pink of rhododendrons,
smart flowers who have learned
to use their branches like hands
to delicately tip the balance of colors
towards the misty beginning of summer.

my son

my son wrote a poem today
he made it a musical game;
when he said it I caught
his eyes twinkle
with the joy of words
transformed into light
my sweet periwinkle.

1 May

the first of may
is the day when we should rest
so that the eye can see
the whole beauty of flowers
to be made into crowns
and hanged on the doors
of our houses
waiting for guests

the next day
we should return
to working in peace
from the fields
left to be wild
and pretty
to the fields that work hard
to feed feed us