It’s in the leaves of the dormilonas, that concept of sensitivity, that we try to skirt so as not to touch and disturb the peace of the night fog on cool leaves. I try to lightly tap them as if I were stroking pools of water so softly so as to not disturb the surface tension. So lightly like tiny mosquitoes soon to become part of a sensitive web of food that allows the flora and fauna to keep cycling through the carefully selected genes in nature. All is so sensitive and perfectly still as it vibrates atomically to frequencies indistinguishable to human ears. May the choices I make remain aware of the softness of this Earth and its inhabitants and may I take care of all in my travels as a world/life explorer.
One day, I too, will cease to be as will all pathways leading to me. Hopefully you will immortalize me each day in your memory. Unfortunately sometimes we may have to leave, quite unwillingly.
The truth is that it matters little what it may be; wether there is truth or a lie is of small consequence. Who better than yourself to realize that this world will serve you a cold dish or a warm broth? Remember that you will at least always have something in your kitchen and those who eat from your fine china will feast tonight. Those who do not sit at your table shall never truly dine on your delicacies for an appetizer does not a whole meal make.
Without even knowing what she’s made for, that stranger caught her essence in the air like the scent of mango flowers often confused for jasmine flowers in spring evenings.
There grew parts of us that no longer fit like they used to. Every other word a torrential downpour crushing, inundating the ground beneath our feet. Between our bodies opened a gash due to the pouring rain softening our foundation until we slowly drifted away. The rains grew heavier as our hands outstretched and we gave in under the weight. I guess… Our passion, once a flame, has now been doused away.
An abstract thought of circular and staggered indicators,
A clock ticking away moments in space,
We are led in symbols of infinity with looped pathways,
Everything moves at the correct pace.
Barefoot amidst the movement of lapping, cold waves—a gentle soul walks onward into the ocean. Mangrove branches loop out from the water and marine alluvium soils. Tiny fish grow within the intertidal zone, protected by the plants and disrupted by her calm feet digging into the sand. Hair wild amidst the cool sun rays softly kissing each eye into a deeper caramel hue. The water against her strong ankles as low pools fill and recede into the Earth. Gusts pick up cooling a body flowing in tandem with the ocean waves as the heart connects to the soul of the ocean.