Fingers

With your fingers 

You mindlessly rearrange my hair

And the colors of the rainbow

 Change order .

I can see clearly now 

The path and the flow.

And I let my mind follow

the hands of a clock

Round and round

Dawn to dusk.

Every day I have done

The same race

Ready to fall off 

 get up, brush off, and go;

Until you have come

To set milestones in my life

Centimeter by centimeter

Adding meaning each day.

I watch you growing taller, 

more loving, more curious,

And more independent

And now that you are ready

To fly your own flight

Run your own race

I hope the you find

Somebody to give you aim

And grow all the love

You can grow, like a garden

With beautiful flowers

And colors 

I wish you to find 

Joy in the fleeting moments

And use them To build 

solidly your eternity 

By all standards of measure 

And challenges

Arm yourself with laughter

And walk your path

Bright and light.

I say this to you

Wishing I can comb 

Your wild hairs

And rearrange

The world to make herself 

Better . Or it is on you.

Look

What are you looking for when you look at me

For I am your truthful mirror

I I can work for you 

From this wall looking you straight in the face

Look harder my friend 

And I hope most days you are looking for revelation

Rather than reassurance 

But if you seek this I can help you there too

For I have learned that there are so few of us that care

That you really will only seldom need it

Rather spend your time learning to stand up straight 

And judge fair, the things that matter 

I am here for you and all I can do

Is through back the image you are projecting on me

Echo your sounds and reflect your soul 

Until the magical day

The day I will welcome when you will declare 

you need me no more, And whether you break me or not 

I look forwards to seeing you so happy and large

As if you would have swallowed the moon.

Fear

I am not fearless 

I am a fugitive

Having crossed boundaries

In and out of your sight.

Finding the path 

Has not been easy for me

But when has it been

For anybody.

We are wanderers 

Comers and goers

Artist and doers

Haters and lovers ,

all wrapped 

In one package 

Like the one I have left

at the door.

The fear I have left outside

Like a wet cloak

When you invited me in

And now that we sit by the fire

Please pour me some wine

And a story to warm myself

Because I have been cold

With fever and fear for too long

Color

Would you let me know

If you only see in one color 

Or somebody can

Change your lights on occasion

Making you see that you can 

play multiple cards at one time.

And how does it look from your angle

This twilight

Consumed by its own distant fire,

Do you find it satisfying for your soul

at all?

Would you dare tell

what quenches you

As your gaze rests

With the monochromatic

Unique joker card

In your hand

Don’t rush with an answer.

Don’t blush

Or you may turn 

This gray city 

Into a garden

And we will all drawn

In it’s beauty.

Yellow

 The fire was rolling downhill

Over bright yellow bushes, flowers

And acacia trees

Have you noticed

The forest 

In spite of the dust and the smoke?

Flight and Flight

I am here to pay now

For when I was a woman

And used to read books

I must have drank your words

From the pages you wrote 

And painted  on them 

the sounds of your voice

Without declaring complicity.

You have handed me the book

Where I have found beautiful sketches

So I have bought it from you;

Without authorship rights

And yet wrote within it.

Without fully understanding what was meant

I melted and poured my soul

Like a mist to color its background 

I remember some words

Tasted like champagne 

And their bubbles

Gave me all the oxygen

I needed to rise in the air.

I have since learned to fly

And that if you cannot master the winds

You can at least ride them.

I am now free and at times

hover in circles 

Dancing with currents 

Above this dark lake 

You were harboring in your chest

As you were serving champagne

I have sharpened my sight

In my preparing to hunt

The only thing that is worth

Winning

And even though I am hungry

I need first to quench this thirst 

That burns from within

out and wide through the forest.

I often dive towards the lake

And at times all I manage to take

Is a sip of dark water

Then I push back and take it with me 

And brighten it up in the air

All in the open

Sun or cloud

Please tell me, have I been fair

In paying my debt and doing my work

For the sake of the forest

As the thirsty hawk and the small colibri 

Work together to ease the burden of fire 

 With water brought against current 

And gravity on willful winged winds

To our lake  from the sea.

Life

The long memory of the short lived romans

Casts its shadow upon us

Children of their hopeful future 

Walking on their immortal roads 

We ask today whether 

Killing each other with poisons

And daggers was worth it

A few  days of glory 

When one could have lived long enough

To greet grandchildren 

Rather than eat them

As monsters of time

Eat theirs again and again

the god descending

The god descended from his upper rank

floating on a cloud

his body like a rock

pressed hard by thought

the fingers of the sunrise goddess

Softened his trajectory into a dance

to made him land

first on a wave, and then on sand.

the sailors rescued him,

as he looked like a perfect piece of art,

And they build for him a marble pedestal 

And climbed him up right in the center of their town.

as people and years passed all marveled 

at the beauty of the statue god,

Just as he watched and learned from the mistakes,

 and the achievements of the old and young

After many springs had passed with rains,

 Followed by scorching summers,

after faltering with falls, and standing up to winters 

he had figured out their ways.

As he descended from the pedestal.

He softened his hard skin, he melted muscles,

learned to ache, and fueled by blood,

he walked his path as he was growing wisdom, 

and also growing old.

Along his path he bent to lift up children with his arms,

he hugged the youth pushing them gently forward,

he helped the elder carry on their loads

and at the end, since he turned a human, then he died.

As snow was melting from the odd pedestal,

dripping gently on the ground

a flower rose with shy white petals

announcing a new season starts.

And then the goddess picked him up,

with gracious fingers and restored him

to his godly  perfect form, so that the humans

that have had the chance to meet him

could write up his story, and their descendants

learning about it could look up 

and hope to meet their imperfect , loving god.

Loves

 Love me with cookies and love me with apple pies

With long walks in the forest and short rests

Love me with laughter and love me with pain 

For I want to share with you everything 

That comes or crosses our way.

Love me with music and if you dare

Love me with silences too.

Even when we are not on the same wave 

I know you and I are trying our best

And will get eventually there

As a pair

fall

tell me what is better

than seeing a child climb

up the apple tree

and the knowledge ladder

when fall comes

wrapped in the golden

light of september

Avoid

Do your best and try to avoid the big void

and if you meet one

Fill the gaps with hope

And fill your lungs with air,

And jump as fast as you can

over the abyss

There will be light 

If you are lucky

In the other side.

Dance

 Dance #1

She for one does not fall in love

She only falls in his arms

And he lifts her up

Every time.

She waits for him 

To fall in her arms 

ready to lift him up

Every time.

They dance

And flow in each others’ arms

Shaping each other

In the best shape 

They can imagine

While the music plays

The tunes of their days

They rise 

Patiently stepping over nights

Towards fresher tomorrows

The ballad of pointless prayers

They put their energy into this dance

To the tune of pointless prayers

Asking to see those

Buried into the past

Calling melancholically

Upon memories 

that have lost

Their way back .

The tune is happy

Though unbelievable .

Voicing their longing 

Giving words to hopeless hope

Not losing the power to imagine

Alternate futures sustains them

To go through with this dance

With light in their eyes

Blessing

May you never lose the wondering spirit,
And the courage to wander
In and out of your comfort space;
The curiosity to see what lies behind 
The bravery to go explore through 
tiny windows showing the promise of light.
May you breath in invigorating cool air
And breath out warmth through each pore.
May you carry your body and soul swiftly
towards the future you want to inhabit, 
hand in hand, you and your friend.

Gift

I give you a mountain of peace

But you may need to climb to sit on the peak

I give you a magic wand radiating joy

But you have to learn and create it each day

I give you fresh air to energize you 

But you have to breath it

I give you a brain but you have to feed it

I give you a body but you have to work it

I give you hands to hold other hands,

To make gifts and keep giving. 

Green

Green, gray, blue and white

shine the changing colors of the midday sea

cycling with waves 

under and over me

i tumble and roll , i try to come on top

the sea comes back

to toy with me

there is no way i can resist

the force and the persistence

overwhelm me

and i am ready to get out and go

keeping some tiny sparks of hope

I will be welcome to return tomorrow

and then she changes mind

and kisses with her gentle foam

depositing white laces to my feet

she makes the babies playing on the shore

giggle at their superpowers

 to  find water under sand,

she feeds the skinny pipers 

that depend on her

for their survival

she makes me wonder if beyond her pride

she might repent for her mistakes

but no, she will not admit

instead she gives me one more push 

that sits me firmly on the sand

why  did i ever think

she might repent

have i not learned that in her glory 

she is the reigning queen of waves and sand

and master crafter of eternal stories

Crabtree falls

The water falls

With the intensity of a prayer

Asking persistently

For good luck and energy

from the streams feeding it;

For forgiveness

For crashing over stones 

and breaking thin branches

She promises 

I will sing your name

I will feed the forest

And have mercy for the tree

That chooses to stand in my way

Dear God

If you forgive me

And just let me be.

neighbors

Barbara's eyes light up with hundreds of fireflies

right around 8 o'clock

keeping watch over the neighborhood

long after she has moved out

driven by debt.

this is  little bit after the time 

that her young and dark neighbor 

who never greets lonely women

is done walking his dog.

this is long after the other neighbor 

has finished cleaning the garden,

the car or the boat, 

smiled to the little children passing by, 

all the meanwhile

keeping his grown up opinions 

vehemently quiet, yet heard.

thus summer goes by swinging between

day and night, 

hanging by 

the light of the moon,

the calm of the lake,

the pressure of heat,

and the dishes we bring

to the party with us, to share

for this potluck we have

in our neighborhood

longing for Barbara' s laugh

and sure stride.

Life (Omi)

she had no regrets

She made no judgments

And if she did

She  used her French 

To hide them

Trunk

 Love is a tree growing light

From its roots to its buds

The seve flowing up 

Through its trunk

Defying gravity

And all other odds

Every time it is called.

Love is found

In the firm grip of the grandmother

Protecting the child;

By holding her hands

On his shoulders,

To anchor him firmly

In reality with her life experience

And grit.

Love shines

On the soft side of the strong man

Seeing his child grow up.

Between scolding and rewards

Work and relaxed moments shared

During the time we are given

To walk a shared path.

Love is heard

In the laughter of the mother

Who know she may never 

Get out this song right

And yet it is always there 

To bind the tribe in the harmony

Of the canon.

Love tastes

Like sweet pancakes

And crepes

The children learned to cook

In a chaotic kitchen

Dusted with magic

Ginger, turmeric and canella.

She said all this is me

over a simple cup

Of black coffee

She then grabbed a bottle of water

And run to catch her train

The witch headed south

With my dreams on her shoulder

Giving her wings to fly

And I knew she did not care which train

Was going to take her

As long as she was promised wings 

To fly her through dreams

Rising from trunks

Of magic trees filled with love

Over centuries

Perception

I touch your skin

Wanting to feel 

The shape of your heart

Nothing more superficial than that;

I look at your eyes

Wanting to see

The hues that fuel your light;

Nothing invisible into that.

I listen to your mouth 

Wanting to hear

The undertones that mellow your heart

And I am caught in you key.

I sense who you are

From the rosemary scent

And led by it I smuggle out 

Tar colored shadows of past.

I pull hard at the roots

I extract and throw them out

To the deep space

Far, cold and appart.

Years pass and she comes 

From nowhere

A sweet ball

Of fire that can make you laugh.

In three moves

You make your songs come out

From her mouth 

Warm and light

And joyfully bright

As she dances around

A strange shape

That resembles a heart.

Red

She was born a  red angel

and learned to fly amongst them

Blue angles, but she sometimes had

strange behaviors like flying up and down

when all the blue angels were running from left to right

as they were rescuing souls 

ready to drown in a river of loss.

While the blues were carrying them 

from the river to the edge of the forest

to breath renewed in the shade

she liked to place them closer to the sun

in hawks's next and high branches

exposed to light, hope and dreaming

and only the vague memory 

about what was happening down on the ground.

As i sat and sung on the banks,

i had a vision of souls that were turning like balls

of red fires and fly from the trees

into the summer air , amongst

blue angels marveling at their need 

to be saved by beauty, 

in vision, music, or dance. 

Portrait

She looked at me from her painting

With her candid smile 

As she danced half steps in the air

And half foot on the ground

And she begged understanding 

For trading her long memories of pain

For fluttering moments of joy.

Yet, as it happened the skilled painter

Was there to capture those moments

To serve as example to those who are 

Contemplating half bravely 

A similar trade

I looked back at her warmed by her smile

As she stood lonely out from the circle 

Of  dancers-  the one contemplating

the past and still dancing forwards 

With grace.

Jack

 Call me Jack

The wanderer the wonderinger 

The doer and sometimes undoer

The impatient builder

The singer and the gardener

The wanna be repairer 

Just call me cause I badly need

A word to push me forwards through the day

Towards tomorrow

And fixing your roof to shield you from rain

Is the project I have always had in the back of my mind 

I was just waiting for you to call and let me know 

You want this done and trust me 

Before I leave you will have a happy and fresh 

Coat of paint 

The jealousy of all cardinals in the neighborhood 

And only the woodpecker will dare knock on wood

To wake you up and wish you good luck

Because I have trained her to do so

In the morning to give you a start

Love storm

He is like a storm in my arms

Rewriting the rules of love and hugs

He twists and turns and rolls

From one cheek to the other 

Butterfly kisses fly in the air

Around this child of mine 

In an effervescence of spirit 

Purpose statement

Chanel your energy to create the future you will want to explore tomorrow.

Olive

My olive girl has dark skin

Made from chocolate 

Softened with milk

From the whitest sheep.

She is strong in spirit 

And the symbol of peace

She has grown gracefully

In a hard land for survival 

Amongst rocks and clay

Under the bright sun

she laughs with arms stretched high

Towards the perturbable sky

As she breaths in the strength of the sea

The hero

 He is but one the hero

And there is only one quest

We each get our chance

If being him and then along the journey 

And the chance comes back

To the lucky ones

Once a day

Everyday of our lives.

There are two sides of one coin

And they can  flip 

Any minute

There are two faces to time

You can call the god

Good or bad

As he sends every moment

To us and asks us

To seek our balance.

The bridge, the trip,

The road and the river

The blue sky and the storm 

And us are asked

To share the path

To coexist.

Be the hero

soak in and drink 

The essence of time 

Fluttering by

While we can

Let’s face the currents

And swim in and drink

The water of life

Fruits

We are all fruits

Of the tree of life

Either soft on the inside 

But hiding beneath

A hard shell ;

Or soft on the outside 

Like peaches 

But hiding a hardcore pit

Protecting our heart.

So many fruits

In this world 

So much sweetness

But handle us with care

Before anybody gets hurt

At harvest

sword in stone

if you are tired of fighting daily battles

do you pick and choose

those for which you show up?

do you drop your guns

to you extract the sword from the stone

or you sit and recharge?

Naked

I stand here naked, 

not of clothes

But of all defenses

Because I have decided 

To let words rings true to their value.

You were listening for a while

And then your voice rang like a bell

In resonance with the loudest timpani

Till the walls let the sound sink into them

And the floor, and there was no ceiling

( anymore).

But then what happened to us?

Have we dissolved in fear or indifference,

Have we become transparent to lies

Allowing them to pass through?

Untouched are our bodies you think

Wrapped in protective feathers of faith?

Will we stand naked all over again?

This time in shame, because

The emperor’s clothes, as it turns out,

were too thin to be true .

bridges

With long strong arms powered by longing 

the very distance between us 

pulls us closer;

to void fills with voices like the sky fills with stars

when the night covers the earth 

in darkness.

the music rises and each voice harmonizes,

the chorus is disorganized, organic, 

exhausting

and yet the music persists in breaking the silence.

we are free to be friends, when we remember

our core;

who we truly are, what we stand for, 

and what do we want from this blessed day 

we were granted.

today is the day, the only today that will ever be

should we choose distance over love

or love over distance ; what kind of bridge

will you and I be?

Sandwiched

Sandwiched between

The soil and the sky

I count the clouds

Waiting for clarity

Soaking it in.

And when the sky

Clears the ways 

Of my thoughts

I start the day

Anew with light 

Food

At first I thought the art of eating in Japan

Was an unconquerable mythology 

Of sweet sauces polluting meat

Breakfast that smells strong enough

To wake the late sleepers

And minuscule sweet treats

that counterbalance calories 

By washing them with patience

And the pure taste of green teas.

I ALSO thought that onions role 

was to anesthetize the feelings

and to drown in tears the thoughts 

against eating raw fish 

and while i was humbly battling all of this

Sweet friends appeared and thought me

how To eat with chopsticks:

Grain by grain, cut by cut 

Gentle and delicate 

Restoring the balance

And The feelings too came back

Rice

And if we are but grains of rice

Don’t we deserve 

The joy of life?

The privilege to make some noise

To let the wind bend us

In a few directions 

The sun light us,

The moon enchant us

Who’s going to see the face of me

And hear the voice of you 

If we are all but grains of rice

Let us be merry for the season

We’ll fill your bowl a little later

With hard earned fruits

If our labor

 

Bruises

I have scraped my knees 

In beautiful corners of the world

I have bled and got bruised

By the road

When taking a curve here and there

Too fast or too slow 

On a dusty fun motor

Ages ago.

And now that I look at me knees

I see silvery traces

Of bruises and all I can say is

Thank you for building with me

Memories.

I

I was never part of the picture

Never been part of the plan

I just happen to happen

And you own the hand

That made be be drawn.

The lines that you’ve painted

Are recognizable 

For being bolder than bold

And they danced me

Into existence 

and shaped me to flow

Into the painting.

Where is my fault 

For being drawn 

at the speed of a bomb?