Awaken

The hunger weeps in the night
what will you do to wake up your soul
what you will do to awaken mine.
Desire filled nights
our hearts racing
as we wait for dawn's light.
I washed my soul in the ocean
while tears fell tenderly.
Your fingers ran down my spine
and left a print on my skin .

Your arms a homecoming

sun kissed days

that ached in sweet surrender.

You are the dew on the morning grass

You are the sound of the rustling leaves

You are the wine in my empty glass

What will you do to wake up your soul

What will you do to awaken mine

Dreamer

The grass glistens

like gems under the light.

I am a dreamer lost in these

moments of wonder.

I listen to the melody,

his image on my gray shirt.

He was a dreamer,

I'm not the only one.

He dreamt of peace

when I was in the bomb shelter

listening to air raid sirens.

A ladybug crawled on

my arm in the darkness.

I was not consumed by fear

but I was filled with hope.

If he lived today

would he be disillusioned

that there is no peace,

that barriers exist,

that we are connected

and disconnected.

These days,

this life,

the change,

all the questions that remain.

We dance through  the questions

we walk side by side with our shadows.

Once in awhile

 we see a glimpse of our better self

seeking

reaching

evolving

making the world a better place

than we have found it.

I am a dreamer 

but I am not the only one.

 

 

 

Mary has us writing in quotes,some of my favorite quotes come from John Lennon's Imagine. 

He was a dreamer and I join him in dreaming.

Fearless

Our bodies 

carry our biographies

she says.

Her voice gentle and soothing

as she instructs us into

a yoga pose.
 The walls are green
 a mix of

jade and avocado.

Our bodies remember 

where we have been

 and who we are.

They hold the scars and shame.

I breathe

and remember the collisions 

of my soul.

Does my body remember

when I've been beaten,

even though my scars have faded.

Does it remember despair and hunger

in my darkest moments.

I was a fearless young girl

that followed her heart.

I have traveled the road

of humiliation and determination,

highs and lows.

My body remembers

the joy of the birth of my children,
holding them for the first time
as my soul lifted.

The sorrow of my parents dying,

the conflicts of religion 

and spirituality .

The hopscotch between 

two continents

that were once both home to me.

How I felt anxiety and loneliness

until I built a new world.
My soul rises,
it's always known where I belong
and how I feel.
I always knew,
never needed to search
for my identity.
I am complicated,
a contradiction
a survivor.
 I have always followed
my heart.
My words have guided me,
lifted me,
gave me a voice.
I wish to leave the words behind
not half truths
but honest confessions.
I want to wear my shame
as well as I wear my triumphs.
My love will linger in my
boys hearts and
on my lovers lips.
My love is what defines me. 

 Maria has us searching out our identity---answering one of a few questions:  Who are you and whom do you love? What else are you, that no one has seen before? Describe a morning you woke without fear. What lingers when all is said and done? 

Your Books

I found your seeds of wisdom

where you buried them long ago

in my subconscious

 with seeds

of love that you gave me every time

our eyes met . 

I found your books ,

overflowing boxes 

and rooms

smelling like the old and the new

in a wonderful mixture 

of life.

Sober from the loss

I gave your books away

as if they were casual friends

we did not want to dine with.

I gave them away

and I felt empty.

You had extracted beauty

from their pages

while you were famished for knowledge.

They gave you the breath

of life,

and silenced your desires. 

Words,

multi faceted gems of light,

when you spoke 

I could see their brilliance. 

I sat in the dark room,

wishing I could wallpaper the

walls with the contents of art,

 philosophy and

poetry

sentences you strung with passion.

I sat hoping that I would catch a whisper,

 that I would hear your voice

calling .

when I closed my eyes,

I held your shirt

breathing in your faint scent.

I sat and waited

 feeling you closer

all along

the moon comforting me.

For my dad. May 10 will be six years since he has passed away. I miss him every day and I l will love him forever.

 

Never Again

I stand at the edge of the world

where the clouds 

and shadows meet.

The darkness draws me in

an echo resonating in my being.

The war was long

and heartless.

Innocence lost,

lives perished 

rays of light

dimmed.

Names will be called

 in Berlin,

Jerusalem,

Boston,

Washington D.C.

as we whisper under

our breath,

the words,

never again.

The sound of the names called

will make us shudder,

 leave us empty

and somber.

Their stories are mine,

their loss is ours.

My great grandparents

were murdered

 in cold blood,

their blood is still

pulsating in my veins.

The roots of my tree

have been cut down

forever changed.

I lost my religion,

but I never lost hope.

 I am spirtual

but not religous

and with that

I am not forgetting them.

I will not forget

or walk

away 

or be silenced.

 I'll wear the yellow

star on my heart for them. 

We were not connected 

only

by religion

 but by humanity.

I will remember,

they are engraved on the

walls of my heart.

Never again

I whisper.

Dedicated to those perished and those who survived including my dear father that was a light in my life.

 

The Blushing Moon

The lizard tells me tales

about the dragonfly

while it chases shadows

under the palm trees.

The worms are crawling 

in the mud

whispering about last night.

We gazed at the sky

and we watched

 the lunar eclipse mesmerized.

Holding the lens

capturing the

 blood moon blushing.

The color vibrant,

and our hearts open.

There is a silent truth

in moments like these.

I watch you immersed

 in wonder

and the stillness 

and magic

of it all

 saturates my being

with gratitude 

and celebration. 

My son Daniel and I set our alarm clock to 3:15 A.M and we watched

with wonder the blushing moon. Sweet moments of life. 

Treasures

The box of jewels 

is dressed with 

green velvet inside.

The box is home to

the leaves and shells

that you gave me.

They chatter all day,

 when the house 

is silent

 I listen.

The leaves remember the 

taste of rain.

They whisper of spring

and children in the park.

They whisper of vines

crawling,

 bathing in the sunlight.

The shells tell tales

about mermaids with 

wavy hair

 floating on seaweed

frolicking in the waves.

The pail was full 

when we walked along

the sand 

sharing summer days

on the island. 

Your hair smelled

 like the salty sea.

I took a deep breath

taking it in

like oxygen 

to carry me through.

I chased the days

as they slipped away

like water rolling through my hands.

The leaves and shells chatter

and I remember

magical yesterdays.