i am

"Who could be so lucky? Who comes to a lake for water and sees the reflection of the moon." Rumi


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Anticipation

He caressed my mind
Just as my heart began to open.
Like a thief jn the night
He cleverly awoke me with his declarations,
Snuck deep into dark wounds
Despite his limitations –
These lesions slowly dissipate into haze.
But with not a single gaze,
How’d he know to get in?

Penetrating my thoughts,
He’s become a pro at deciphering
The moods my soul swings to;
And as my heart he pursues,
He causes a fluttering that knows no harm.
Unarmed, I give in gradually
But hesitantly.
Should I? Should I not?
Why not?

Reasoning with a lack of reasons,
A case I’m unable to state
For the places I’ve been
Compare not to the places he’s seen
Through dreams which enchant a morrow
He knows will ensue pleasure and ease.
His love has instantly become immeasurable
As he unravels a knot that choked
Me for far too long with a memoir
That would otherwise have no end.

There’s a sunrise in his lingo
And a misty coolness that oozes
Its way into my core –
I wonder if this sensation
Will whistle past the graveyard.
Mmm, raindrops taste like sweet persimmons
Every time the thought of him lingers in my senses-
Delicate and subtle;
But I anticipate encountering in the physical
For it shall confirm what my visions
Have alluded to as I patiently wait.
Ah, to anticipate forever through a single soul.

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A poetic conversation

Him:  Clear is your voice

Like crystals that shatter

When you scatter the silence

And that’s when I can see the light

Shine through a prism you created

HerA light so bright as if directly from Source

My warmth is stimulated

Like the solar plexus massaged with mustard oil

It’s invigorating

Him:  So different, the colors, when you’re elated

That beam and seem to bring dreams to reality

HerElated by a prose so smooth

It slides from one realm of existence

Into another

A mist that encompasses most aspects

Of joy never thought possible


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Oh, Just a Dream

I’m dreaming of weaving my desires

Betwixt butterfly wings

To fly in the breeze

And magically land in a king’s territory.

My essence would be found floating in the mist,

Immersing the concourse on which he stands

With sparkles of love

Brushing his heart with colors

Seen only in the cosmos.

Beauty in his eyes.

My name on his lips.

I was only dreaming,

Kaleidoscoping through electric glass

That shocked reality back into place.

Lightning bolts of honesty

Bursting profoundly through my chest.

“He loves me”, “he loves me not”

Every word spoken plucked hope out of my heart.

A roseless stem,

Growing blindly in the wrong direction,

Hoping for a “love me” phrase alone.

He must have forgotten to speak

For I waited desperately

In a silence that protruded my ears.

“he loves me not”, he repeats.

He stops.

I listen and blink.

Letting tears roll off my cheek and down my chin,

Dripping in the soil.

But from there, a new rose must bloom with a ruby forming from within.

And emerging from the Earth shall be a new beginning.


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Big Mama

“Big Mama has three sons of her own, Christopher, Brennan, and Sam. The Reed family experienced hard times of its own after being abandoned by the boys’ father when Christopher was only one month old. “We lived in a fish market for a while,” says Sam, “so we know what it’s like to have no home.” Brennan added, “Our experience made us realize how important it is to help others in need.” All three of Big Mama’s sons help out in many ways, from directing the Boys’ Step Team and running errands to driving neighborhood kids to school each day.” [Team of Life]

Last year, I had the pleasure of honoring Big Mama with a poem during the tenth anniversary Christmas toy drive and fundraiser for her nonprofit organization, Team of Life. Their mission is to simply give back. They do this by becoming involved in the lives of youth in the community. Many have no stable homes, some have been school drop-outs, others seek for parental guidance / role models, etc… they also provide transportation when needed. They mentor and donate school supplies, clothing articles, food, toys and provide shelter for those who need it.

This year, The International Holistic Center, whose partnered with Team of Live since last year, has asked me to recite my poem once again for Big Mama, tonight! I am delighted to be part of this event once again.

Here is a photo taken from last year’s event which was printed in The Sun Sentinel Newspaper. I am the one in pink, on the bottom of the page.

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And the poem as follows…

Like the might and size of an eagle

As it soars through the Heavens,

So is your heart as is spreads abundantly

To become an extension of our future.

Dismantled yet shaken you were not.

Your passion to battle misfortune and betrayal 

Kept the sun shining through your overcast days.

Your brave soul and will to survive made you stronger,

And here you are:  a mighty woman.

You carry the titles of

Mother, father, mentor

Activist, leader – an angel even.

You. Are. Powerful.

Because you saw the forest for the trees.

See, you possess a green thumb

In this garden of life where our children

Run wild and resources are scarce.

But you aspired to inspire our youth

Through your blood, sweat and prayers.

Only truth has transpired from your work.

Only good has been reaped

From every seed that you’ve sowed.

Only pure growth can come about

From someone who devotes as much time,

Effort and love at the drop of a dime,

Such as you.

You. Are. Love.

Because you’ve whistled past the graveyard.

Like a minstrel in the spotlight,

You are a blessing to life.

How can one conceive the immensity

That is your heart?

You’ve made yourself readily available

To kids whom others have overlooked.

You’ve tended to their necessities;

And despite being misunderstood,

You’ve shown compassion through your interaction.

Adversity was of no hindrance to the faith you gave.

Big Mama, through prayer your strength transcends.

Your community outreach rises above preaching

For you’ve centered your teachings on the quality of life –

On dreaming in grand scales and seeking truth.

You’ve introduced meaning to the existence of our youth.

Fortunate are those to be part of you.

Thank you for being Big Mama,

Thank you for being Team of Life!


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Stepping Back

And I saw her –

Dancing in the silhouette of the music,

Pleasantly smiling

At what’s become her new territory.

She reminded me of me.

I took note:

She was solid.

Firm in solidarity.

Her familiarity with

The atmosphere

Was an indication of my demise;

I know how to lose.

In the wilderness I retrace my tracks,

Rocking side to side

On a hammock that soothes

An aching heart.

Mornings of mist

Are now my comfort.

The honey dew of midnight

Accompany my spirit

Like a lovebird at dawn.

I’ve withdrawn,

Accepting of being overcome

But not succumbed.

I rise in a fog storm

As it transforms pain into

Nostalgia of what once was;

I smile again.

And in remembrance of my own silhouette

I press reset with a genuine touch.

It isn’t my time.


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So It Was

A couple calendars have passed, 

And I ask all that IS 

If more seasons will evolve before 

The hour of encounter. 

Stars trickle at midnight 

Through the farthest spaces between 

All that once seemed eternal.

Journaling dreams, voicing a future

And attempting to alter a destiny 

Has  become hopelessly useless.

What’s undone can be done not again

Finger prints wiped, 

Leaving behind only a smudge. 

I indulge in caramel-coated

Memoirs as my eyes gaze into

 A jammed hour glass

As time declines passing.

But so it was… ♠