if the stars

If the smallest stars in the sky 

would play the song of sirens in the night 

would you open the windows? 

would you wonder and look up? 

You would wonder for one minute 

You would take your time. 

You would close one window, and the other would stay open 

If the song would stop for a while 

you would miss it. You would stay near the window. 

And if Tinker Bell would share some magic dust you would take it, but make sure you can keep the windows open, to be able to return. 

Afterwords it is the stars that sing a siren song, and in the morning the stars are always gone. 

Some mornings if the stars feel like it, they hide beneath your window, in Tinker's pockets and listen to the sound of your voice. 

if Adriatics and you

If I would be the Adriatics,

I would run in your arms and would spill my waves in your heart. 

I would let your sun follow my heels, 

never from a distance. 

I would caress your toes and would play in the dark with your hair, with your light, but especially with your shadows. 

I would laugh and my waves would make your smile stay for longer and in the earth your spirit would grow a baboine tree that would survive manhood eternal questions. Am I here to stay? Where am I going? Am I doing enough to live a mark in the ground?

Maybe the only reason is just to be.  Sometimes in more than one way. Sometimes to be like the sea, or like the sun? no, like a baboine tree to live one day at a time. 

a tshirt

I left in the afternoon 

on a clowd wearing nothing but my t-shirt 

with the message 

Friends. 

I left in the afternoon, when my voice got week and my judgement impaired. 

vulnerability

your vulnerability 

I would never want to be 

your vulnerability is  

something to discover with care 

and with passion 

your vulnerability is as we both know 

nothing that can be exploited

at least nothing that can be portrayed

with bad intentions. 

I can still feel your vulnerability

pistrui din trecut

Pe umerii mei sunt mainile mamei mele 

pe umerii mamei sunt urme ale mainilor bunicii 

pe umerii bunicii sunt pistrui

pe care ii gasesc pe chip

cand privesc imaginea din oglinda. 

Pistrui, fiecare cu cate o insemnatate, fiecare cu cate o poveste. 

layers of selfdiscovery

I am self aware 

low maintenance  

high achiever 

modest and sometimes single minded

I am the way God intended 

or the universe, or the nothingNess

we care nothing about. 

I am an idealist 

a maker of dreams, 

of objectives to be reached 

and of stairs to reach them. 

I am in all ways a woman 

of many layers:

Beautiful somedays

kind in many ways 

smart, but not smartest

passionate 

contemplative and obsevative 

loyal, but not against my feelings 

straightforward, but still with a diplomatic iz. 

brave.

playful 

and sometimes anxious and 

hardworker

Confident 

and sometimes not.

I lack empathy when I feel lied to, 

crossed with, or I know secret interests residing inside

I am

a mother 

a sister 

a partner

and a daughter 

a friend that would always help a friend in need

a loving woman of many layers. 

out of order

most times in my mind one thought resides

what is it that gives me purpose? 

not only physically, not even only intellectually. 

what is it that I need to learn from the last period? 

not to trust so much my intuition, 

as my perceived feelings seem to be out of order.