Riviera Maya

3/21/17

Los pájaros el la mañana

son muy sonoros

negro, feliz, libre.

Ellos me dicen, bienvenidos!

Me turno a mi amor en la cama

le beso en su frente y

cierro mis ojos y escucho.

La espuma cae sobre las rocas en la playa

se parece una baila.

La sal en el aire y en mi piel

todos crean mis sueños

como una madre crea amor

por sus hijos.

Mis manos, mi cuerpo nada

en el cálido mar, agua turquesa

me rodea.

Me sentí tranquila, cansada pero

contenta, áspero pero suave,

como una concha lava del olas

del mar, cambió, bonita, único.

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The birds in the morning

are very sonorous

black, happy, free.

They tell me, welcome!

I turn to my love in the bed

I kiss him on his forehead and

I close my eyes and listen.

The foam falls about the rocks on the beach

it looks like a dance.

The salt in the air, on my skin

all create my dreams

like a mother creates love

for her children.

My hands, my body swims

in the warm ocean, aqua blue water

surrounds me.

I felt calm, tired but

content, rough but smooth

like a sea shell washed by the waves

of the sea, changed, pretty, unique.

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Be the snow

2/23/17

I want to walk among the

snowflakes and just be.

Adopt floating feelings

not fleeing just seeing.

Follow their directions into

new resurrections when

the wind picks up

ushering fractals into

space or ground to melt.

Let me melt like them into

this sphere and feel the love

so temporary, the heart knows.

This snow is telling,

quiet flurries that mirror life.

Don’t wish it away,

here & now, let’s stay.

Bike Ride

mckaylake

11/8/2016

As I ride past McKay Lake

a whir of burnt yellow

soft orange, cerulean glass

ripples, reeds reaching

for the sky, petrichor and

warm pockets of air

surround before cool

drafts numb my cheeks

I think: I am enveloped

in an embrace.

Autumn leaves dance

my eyes graze

memories decayed, crumbles

soon a reservoir of

contemplation will blanket,

blessings light as

snowflakes, kisses up ahead.

Remember the Noble Truths

Dancerpost_yoga

Let go of the desires

oh all of the heartaches they sire

send them to sea ablaze funeral pyres.

Longings to make them proud

treasure me in the crowd

a full moon face with no clouds.

Childhood strings of attachment

put all these tears in a basket

turn them into daisies, joyous facets.

Ideas of what I should be

untangled to set foot free

so that I can be happy being me (remember there is no I only we).

Emily Dickinson and New Beginnings

Sun_Tree_Colorado

This spring brings wonderful gifts, not only the gifts of nature but new beginnings in my life, a new house and a new academic commitment.  As I was browsing through my books I came across ‘Final Harvest’ by Emily Dickinson, a book of poems I hadn’t opened in a while.  I was struck by the eloquence of Ms. Dickinson’s pithy vocabulary and unique rhetoric through syntax and style.  This poem resonated with me and decided it was worth resurrecting with my blog.

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If something makes sense to you then do it if it feels right.  Your endeavors will always come back to you no matter how long it takes, when the time is right it will happen.  That is what I’m taking away from this time in my life and in essence this poem reflects these feelings for me and with succinct splendor.

Delicate Winter Poem

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Sensitive as permeating

cold on bare flesh

winter’s icy breath

whispering on my neck

blood rushes to cheeks

relief and peace I seek.

I’ll look at piercing

reality glaring glittering

sun on pillowed snow

fear and doubt, don’t show; harsh

seasons that hardened my heart

sharpened my mind and art

it’s there I find shelter

surrendering into ancient forms

receiving survival peonies adorned

upon my crown bowed

frozen yet realizing

mindfulness is endowed

wisdom in frigid grace

acute white lines melt

into brown, gray, green

when I close my eyes

it can been seen.

Autumn Love Poetry

aspens_fall

Gold coins high against gray sky

a still morning

deadly quiet.

A burning orb emerges

reminding me of love

illuminated mysterious

light when he peaks,

beauty unfolding

blooming like a yellow rose.

I close my eyes

feel warm rays

gently massaging

my skin in a cold

house, a cold fall

day fading into

winter outside leaves

swirling

like colorful ballerinas

in a dance toward

death mulches frozen soil

soon layered with

frosty powdered white

a world with beauty

that’s much more so

with brilliant billows

spontaneous blazing streaks

your fingers,

a love as bright as the sun.

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