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Dias Perdidos
El trueno y las nubes trajeron un aviso de paraíso. Atravesaron el velo de la noche y llegaron jugando con el alba. Atrás quedó el calor opresivo de los últimos días. Se quedan casi en el olvido mientras el cielo juega con luces y estruendos, coquetea con llover, y acaricia mi cuerpo con brisas frescas de días perdidos.
¿Acaso serán estos los días perdidos, los que no viví, los del exilio? ¿Será…
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Why Does the Ocean Swell?
Why Does the Ocean Swell?
Why does the ocean swell? Is it the pull of the Goddess Moon high above at the heart of that other ocean, holding so many stars? Is it the yearning and the loving of this earthly sea, stuck here in planetary existence with us trying to get back to the higher waters, to that infinite ocean to which our own is but a drop? Is it that love for the divine, the love for the womb, that makes our mother…
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This Impertinent Moment
This moment, it is pertinent to say, has been waiting its turn from the beginning of creation. When the sleeper stirred first and uttered a tiny vibration, unaware of it––just a single movement creating the beginning of a dream––this moment of time has been waiting, waiting to appear.
Before this moment, there were many other moments––movements, thoughts, words, actions, concerns, fights, death,…
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Moon Path
The path you see in front of you is not the path the others see. We all see the same moon, but the path of light reflected in the moving, living waters touch each one of us individually.
You see a path of light leading from your feet to the moon. Your companion sees the light touching her feet, not yours. So it is for everyone. So it is with the truth. It is clear, undeniable, and objective, yet…
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Sidewalk Café
I see myself through ancient eyes. An immensity of sound and movement behind me, I see the odd alien old man sitting alone.
His face, unmoveable. His eyes dead, reflecting the distant light of far away stars.
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Without the Swelling of the Heart, No Story Is Worth Telling In the silence between word and word, between day and day... in the silence between dream and dream, between knowledge and understanding, between thoughts and emotions...
Sound Shaped by Intent
Sound Shaped by Intent
How is it then that speech flows out?
Sound shaped by intent; behind the sound, a silence. Here and there perhaps a vision, an experience, a gnosis.
What flows out in words reaches the soil of perceptions from where, irrigated by time and memory, new and different crops will sprout in the complexities of the mind.
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My Sacred Prayer
One day this bubble of existence will burst into a million pieces, sending fire and light, and spread it all through creation.
Or maybe it will dissolve into the liquid nothingness of the solar waters that flow from that sunset that’s been waiting to come for all eternity.
It will then be so that every experience I ever had, every word I ever said, every pain I ever caused, and every hope I ever…
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