Sun Kissed Days

Sun Kissed Days

Sunday, October 15, 2017

The Places You will Go

The storm rolled in,
the trees were stark,
against the dark sapphire sky,
the roads an endless white blanket.
How quiet it gets
when it snows,
I thought the day you were born.
Love was held in each breath,
in your eyes I discovered 
the constellations
of the sky.
I cradled you in my arms,
my heart racing.
I wanted to live,
to love you
through your first scraped knees,
watch over you when you climb trees,
read you bedtime stories.
I wanted to live
to watch your pearly teeth
sprout like limbs of a young tree.
I wanted to guide you to catch
your first fish,
while the seagulls watch in anticipation
waiting to steal it.
I wanted to hear about your first kiss,
when your lips feel like they're on fire,
when they feel soft like billowy clouds. 
I wanted to build bridges between 
your generation and mine.
Share postcards of oceans I have crossed,
of places you will go one day,
when you grow up to be a man.
Building your own life,
your own future.
I wanted to play games
I had played with my brothers,
when we were children,
build forts out of sheets and pillows.
Dance with you in the kitchen,
the way I dance with your grandfather
when the harvest moon floats in the sky.
I wanted,
I wanted,
I want
your breath to be yours,
your space to be free,
your journey to be one of discovery.
Shape your world 
and mold it with your interpretation
and your intention.
Navigate your compass
with true wisdom,

Sunday, September 24, 2017

A New World

My father
created a life
out of thin air.
He built a foundation
with his strong hands
and his strong mind.
He built a home,
raised a family,
and found success.
Then he uprooted
to a new land,
to plant new trees,
on new landscape,
of a blank canvas,
for his sons and daughter.
He left notoriety,
a good name,
a reputation,
to start over.
Be invisible,
suffer tragedies and challenges
in his new world,
for all of us to find peace
from the impending war.
He sacrificed for the country,
but he did not want to 
sacrifice his sons.
My mother learned
a new language in her
late forties.
Leaving behind tailored dresses
and sparkling jewels.
Abandoned her status
to work as a cook
at a beach front hotel.
Her dainty feet
swelled into boats,
never to recover.
Her mother tongue spoken to us,
while others did not understand
her broken English. 
Hope drifted in and out of 
the windows of our home
and entered through the
door one day.
But it was not long before 
a new hurdle
had to be confronted.
My mother and father
did not dwell in the past.
They lived every day
stung by the reality of 
putting food on the table
and clothes on our backs.
Their love trickled in our sleep,
raised our dreams,
found a path,
to change,
to rise,
to recreate our life.

Sunday, September 3, 2017


with a tarnished crown.
Scars on my soul,
mapped like the constellations
in the sky.
I forgot how clueless
I was as a girl.
How sad my soul was,
seeking other lost souls
to lift,
from the wreckage of life.
The moon shadowed 
my recklessness.
The tide brought erosion
to my shore,
igniting the hunger to overcome.
Thread by thread, 
I weaved into a tapestry
of strength and survival.

Tuesday, August 22, 2017


His eyes dart up and down,
the light dancing on the ceiling
holds him captive.
In the sky, the eclipse leaves
us spent with wonder.
He watches the Yellow Tang
He is mesmerized by the woods,
woods one can get lost and found in.
A sea of green blushing in the presence
of the sun.
Woods captured by color and artists long ago.
Our hands are locked in a puzzle
of familiarity and love.
Devotion and the quest of the unknown.
His eyes are gleaming 
filled with innocence.
My heart is beating,
racing in my chest.

Sunday, August 13, 2017


leave me aching,
to lift the veil.
Unearth the secrets 
from their burial ground
of lullabies that are no longer mine.
A language forgotten,
where humanity and love merge.
Where light and grace dance as one.
Saddled by time,
the burden does not dissipate
nor die.
I told the sun about my demons,
the sun told the moon.
The moon lit my dark nights 
and showed me the way 
to a new dawn.

Sunday, July 30, 2017

Tell Him

Talk to your son,
my child.
The way I spoke to you on 
moonless nights
about the stars and galaxies.
Tell him your tale:
how you loved cars,
how you simulated their sounds.
Tell him about colorful Lego bricks
you made into castles with soliders,
about war and peace.
Tell your son
about the stories you devoured
of art and history,
how your home was filled with love,
and every breath was brimmed with gratitude.
Tell him about your ancestors
and their will to survive the
strife and hunger of the grey war.
Tell him about bees and pollination,
the salmon's migration,
grizzly bears,
and bald eagles.
Tell him of your struggles
and your human decency. 
Talk to your son,
my child.
He will grow with sparkling pride.
He will know your love is undeniable,
your love shining through his days and nights.

Sunday, July 23, 2017


I discovered the crows feet
nestled by my eyes.
I forgave them and accepted
them to be mine.
I love that they exhibit
a piece of my struggle.
Days I squinted in delight,
dark nights when weeping
left me drained and numb.
I questioned the veins in my hands,
pronounced and deep,
then I accepted them
for all the hard labor they had done.
Hands weathered by love given,
days from dawn to dusk,
babies they had washed,
foreheads caressed.
I watched my white strands 
residing in my dark hair. 
I accepted them for their resilience
and beauty.
I challenged my mind to battle the known
and seek the wonder of the unknown.
I challenged my soul to rise up
and embrace the woman
I have become
and love the life I have been given.