the one you are looking for is you

She sits in airport bars and is usually draped in black but depending on the season's wind she'll order white wine or red. She listens discreetly to the tales others spin about themselves and how they think they show up in the world. She exhibits a sense of peace in solitude that she never used to know; she delights in the sparkplug that is loneliness

quedar

There is a certain vibrant rawness to Cusco that makes me want to dig my heels in to the cobblestone and never look back. I'm perched silently above the city and watch it unfold from this yellow room, the walls are bare and the wood is raw and this in a manner of all senses allows the space for me to sit folded and cloaked  by the city at night and unleash all the colors I have collected. Feeling familiar here fills me up more than food ever could, so instead of taking meals I walk the ascending streets until my calves ache, I sip slowly, and  after gritty Cabernets for dinner  I can draw the thin curtains and still allow the lights from San Blas Plaza to enter in as I paint the walls with a stream of the content I've recorded on my walk about the day. And I try to paint it all before it leaves me- the methodical tones and the streets as crooked as the smiles and the wimba tree. I cup the memory of a mango so ripe it bites. In the corner I fold the thickness of my longing. and up high in this yellow room I paint it all. Here is where the red roofs grin up at me and the dogs ask what's become of me and my soul pleads with me- remain, remain...

parting words from a stranger

What you told me in your doorway when I finally got up to leave was that maybe things won't look or feel the way you think they will. I cusped that notion, I gently lead it down the street and over many moons and I found that it held water. When the splinters came loose and all was said and done I realized you were right, because I felt sublime and small, because he let me leave without a fight, because I woke up minutes before my alarm that morning, and every morning since, and felt at ease. I saw truth float out from the curling steam above my tea, I giggled softly to myself and peeled off your tee shirt. Bare chested I glanced around and shed another layer of myself.

Chakra Scan

At my base a grounding cord
Above it two beautiful golden orbs (life giving and in this sense godly)
At manipura a brilliant lustrous sun
At anahata I loop a sign of infinity around my heart
At visshudha la luna llena
My third eye whispers secrets of the untold the eternal ringed in gold
At my crown a sprouting seed that splits in white and reaching upwards tells me I am always open for you.

They spoke about the coming and going of the rain- passed a Cabernet back and forth across a drooping bed and at first he kept her distance as she learned against the pillows, I watched it all, how they made eye contact earlier in that destructive way she she likes to toss her head back whenever she departs- and when she did he was watching her saunter off. Later he would touch her anklet gingerly, asking her about it as an excuse to initiate a closer engagement, any by the time the bottle was empty he was leaning over her and panting and full of hope. She surprised me then with fortitude and for hours they wrestled under the stars of the 80s, an old TV boasting Bowie and the likes on VH1.He liked to name them one by one as they lit up the dusty screen and when Material Girl erupted she asked him then to whisper Madonna several times. From her crooked smile I know she had decided she had never liked a word from a stranger so well, and decided also to take him to the roof where she hung from the rafters and let rain glide down her arching back, wrapped herself around him and laughed coyly in his ear when they heard the roosters crow.

embodiment meditation of a fig

I sat curled up on the porch in the strong Andean sun surrounded by fruit trees that welcomed me in to my self. A fig hanging low and sultry in the corner winked at me and I begun a slow descent into the best embodiment meditation I've ever had. My knees rounded, supple at my base I felt my spine arching inwards, my heart encircling itself, my skin growing thick and the deepest purple you could imagine the taste... a stem reaching out that held me, allowing me to hang playfully in the breeze. Chilling low under dappled leaves I heard the hint of thin bones in the wind the flapping of some thing that didn't need to acknowledge my existence. Feeling so sweet and juicy, encompassed by a thick indulgent skin, break into me and let me run down your chin, I'm flying high and placed so perfectly..

amazon

The sound of the Amazon at night is full and resonant, I've never been so content on my own. I feel myself shifting, lifting upwards every time I tune in.
Monkeys climbed all over me, I held an anaconda and a sloth and saw toucans jumping, pink dolphins too but mostly the greatest wonder has been myself. Watching how I wake in peace and observe my fears and jump in the amazonia to swim...light a candle for my beautiful room, and the outdoor shower, and my hips...
Pedro my German brother told me I had a holy glow as we walked through the jungle path. I feel like a forest nymph, a sister of the selva, a snake goddess with inner light.

In my meditation yesterday an image appeared: a key that floated in front of me with a luminescent blue at its head, I understood instinctively this key was made for my heart chakra and that unlocking this space would be a primary prospect while in Peru.

I sit lightly now and think calmly towards the empty spaces ahead- lumbered slots of time await me, they slide across a gridded vat and in between each row sits golden moments, wide open spaces, a rolling green that supports the evolutionary unlocking of my Anahata.

on time, again

My heart dropped behind my lower ribs just now because I realized I haven’t seen you since the day I left. I heard your voice once through the walls and still I lift each one of your flannels to my face whenever I come upon one, but I haven’t been greeted by your face for weeks and it scares me that time is moving so aggressively. I feel time because he grabs and bruises the inside of my wrists and forces me away from you. He’s pulling and I’m scared to turn around to find you in case you’ve gotten older since January, or in case you don’t wear the same smile anymore. Would I recognize the way you carry yourself? .There are few feelings I have as complex as being captive to time- he handles me in a way that says I will break you, and the ocean says I will swallow you, and your hands say I will hold you, and the forest says I will lose you. The first day I ever saw you I imagined how your eyes would shine fifty years down the line. Months later I wrote a poem about them and it still sits between us, those words about your eyes, and I find myself telling time that some things will never change.

oh eckhart

“One thing we do know: Life will give you whatever experience is most helpful for the evolution of your consciousness. How do you know this is the experience you need? Because this is the experience you are having at this moment.” eckhart tolle