blue magical stone

I was borned from the mountain of desire or faith or how people call it from Athos. 

I got to be one of the many citizens of the court of Mary, but when she got expelled from the mountain she took me with her, in her right pocket. 

I got to be held by saints, by ordinary woman, by powerful man, even by woman that sold their soul, and sometimes their body. 

I got to know the world, and especially people by their colors 

and if their colors were dark, they would never be able to hold me

as I am the one of the small stones from the originary carvings. 

As I choose who can hold me, for a second or more. 

I travelled the world many times, but I stopped when got to be held by a man, a contradictory man, a priest by vocation, but more than a normal one. 

I saw his many colors his many words and his steady feelings. I choose to stay. 

Then for one day or 2 I chose another with the colors of the Sun. 

One that had all the potential, all the internal strength, but one that was not ready, he was doubtful, still his colors were amazing. 

I got to bathe in this colors and almost forgot about my purpose. I remembered the steady one and decided to return. 

My path is long, maybe never ending. 

letter 2

when I see you not like your normal way, preoccupied or sad, my heart beats slower with one punch of a giant or with the blink of an eye. 

it whispers to the wind of change that follows your left ear - you are wonderful and kind and even harsh when things don't go as you planned. 

split in two

my heart is split in two

and I have no way out 

two parts 

the mother and the wild woman

the rules follower and the rebel 

the responsibile and the stars runner 

the dreamer and the analytic one 

never one side story of my life 

song

sent me a song once 

in a space you never left out 

and I felt it

I dont know how you do it 

how you make me feel 

more than to think,

because I usually do use my green waves

I am used to it. 

you seem to think more, so I can feel more when you are around.  

hidden truth

a time comes when hidden truth

reveals from within

a time comes when I need to choose

what I can live with, or live without. 

a time of change and heart ache. 

overdressed hands

overdressed 

my hands start to tell the world

the story of the women behind me

the unheard 

the unbalanced 

the unconditional loving woman 

the mother

the ones that took the hardship in their 

tears, 

in their guts or on their skin

the ones that carried all the bad in their bones.

not letting it touch their children. 

not letting it out 

still nothing you hide inside 

stays hidden forever

it comes back from within 

generations after. 

Autumn Dream

familiar faces spread across the globe within the tree of life's roots.

its leaves shares their laughter

when they slowly fly to the lowest level of Hades's world. 

Autumn's dream is endless

and starts on the 31st of August

The best and last day of summer. 

tree of life

in your absence, 

your presence appears tattooed on my skin like an old oak 

that has no other reason 

to be than life itself. 

letter

somedays I would like to write you a letter written in pencil, handwritten.

to sign it with an unknown name Silvia or Martha, or Agatha maybe.  

In the letter nothing of importance, except maybe the changes I see in you.

The way your neck changed, it is slimmer.

The way your voice changed a little, 

it found pace, something it was looking for

Your tired eyes. 

Your love of life and light and desire, not ever directly expressed verbally.

the way I feel like myself, more when I am close to you.

inulin

At the limit of my being 

there are emotions 

wrapped in inulin

At the limit of my being 

there are hills that my hips shake

there are clowds I ride 

and 

little flowers with huge roots

tree roots, that changed perspective 

and refrained from growing

At the limit of my being 

rain and summer light. 

simplicity

under water all things of life get clarified 

under water there is only dessert 

under water there is only light and play 

there is absence and it is playful.

Under water my life is simple. 

It is movement. 

no scent, no taste, no emotion

only movement and simplicity. 

end of June

my childhood was marked by

Keep her safe. 

my little sister. 

The one that could have fought the anger demon, and got away with it. 

The one that my grandmothers were scared off 

The one that could not stand or walk in due time 

The one that always knew something more than me

The one that was never listening 

although I was almost always right. 

The one that had my heart since she eat her own poo with her left hand, when she was 3 or 4 months old.

The one that always got me to fight as we were back on the street, fighting the bullies on the streets. 

The one that always looked up to me somehow. 

The one that knows me best. With all the good, all the ugly and all the dreams from childhood. 

trembling temple

There is a temple 

in its middle

there is a small golden stone. One that smells like peonies in the summer.

One that knows how to give away the colours of the Sun.

One with shades that are recognizable wherever she is willing to go. 

the temple trembles. 

It knows the colours and the shapes of each of its stones, black or coloured, still it never encountered this kind of stone.

A stone that brings the sun in its entrance. A stone that makes the temple want to grow 2-3 feet taller. 

A small golden stone that reflects the sun inside his walls. 

my body

I look at my body 

and I love it even more than when I was younger

My neck is kind 

my breasts are beautiful and stubborn 

my tummy has secret waves and it is never boring 

my hips are dancing and my legs are not long, but always long enough for what I need. My feet are small and gracefull and they can do wonderful things. 

My bottom is small, but rounder than before. My ears are chewy and my hands are wiser, they hold my soul in line. 

my face is not beautiful in itself, but has 1000 shades of beauty. And some freckles. Especially in the summer. 

part of my soul

I showed you a part of my soul 

the part that climbs trees

the part that travels in time 

the part that writes 

the part that dreams 

and the part that feels too much 

You know me. 

Not so many people do. Not the real me. 

stone

stoned to the corners of my being 

stoned to the earth's desires 

stoned, calcified and immersed in a single point of view. 

afraid

afraid of lack of movement 

afraid of my own body's reaction 

afraid of loosing myself 

midnight

meet me in a dream

near the mountains that protected your childhood from the distance.

find a green path under a full moon. 

wolfs and bears and other creatures 

would party in the mountains. 

 

while we would stair in eachothers eyes and silence would know

A kiss. 

voice inside

my voice inside 

is at the edge of the world

smiling

my voice inside 

is grateful for the little things I have

the smile of my kids, 

the flowers 

on my living room table,

the health of my family. 

my voice inside 

knows more than I do. 

has no regrets. 

not for anything that in the last year has 

enriched my being with a kind of emotion I was not aware I still hold. 

it is brave enough to make me  unapologetically vulnerable. 

it is that kind of voice that you hear it coming out of your being, when your child is hurting, or when you are near a panic attack, or at your first loves desire. 

The voice, the real one. 

The one that never screams, the one that always tells the truth. 

The truth inside a soul. The light that trembles, but it is never extinct. 

it is that voice that when hurting is like the growl of a she wolf on a full moon.

it is never for the weak of heart, 

as it can bring doubts and sometimes tears.

token

disappointment from a distance

disappointment is clear and not ever subtle 

if it would be spilled on the green land in front of a church it would burn the ground up to the moment when there would not be anything green around it. 

disappointment is with motive, comes by reason and is always justified, but it demands a lot from any spirit. 

It always comes with a token. 

the token of justified feeling and unjustified repercussions. 

We all need to rebuild from disappointment's dust.