mother & daughter

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Wise Woman

I finally saw Her!  Felt Her wisdom like warmth from the sun soaking into my skin.  She is sitting calm and resilient, like flowing water that cuts through rock and etches  canyons with long, liquidy fingers.  Her hair falls straight, dark with gray streaks that pick up the highlights of her serene face. Rest, my daughter.  I've got this!  You're going to have to start trusting me. The miracle is that I do.  I feel my body soften, malleable like clay in Her hands. My child, who told you to carry this load?   Why do you think you have to have all the answers?   Just do your work, the result is none of your business. My work, yes.  Breathe.  Check myself.  Clear the debris.  The more I do this, the easier it becomes to recognize those thought barnacles that cling to me but are not mine.  It's simple really.  Constantly questioning each moment, each experience, each person standing before me to s...
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Guadalupe

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Mother of God. You wrapped me in your arms before I ever knew your name. When I cry out for help, you are the phoenix that rises within me. You fill my lungs with air and give me song. You are the mystery that my life's poem seeks to unfold. You were there all the time, but I overlooked you. Dismissed you. You gave birth to God! Yet I recognized you only as a supporting actress in the play, and I wanted more. Forgive me. I mistook your simplicity for triteness. Swallowed the neatly packaged version of your story. Rejected it as propaganda instead of defining it for myself. Then I found you in the dust of Mexico. Sacred spirit descended and embodied by someone so humble. You are not bound by the mirage of perfection. You accept your destiny without knowing the ending. The call is enough. You plead and grieve but manage to keep your feet moving along the road despite your fear. You surrender your entire being on the altar of transformation and know the pain of loss. You ...
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Sharpening the Knife

Here we are Eye to eye And thirsty Tenderly testing the waters Of this deep, crystal clear pool. But we are no longer young and foolish We can still hear the sizzle from the last time We let such enchanting water  put out our roaring flame.   We are sweaty and weary And wear our battle wounds with pride. We are warriors not unfamiliar to the weight of a sword We’ve slashed ties and built a fortress And guarded it fiercely to raise our young. So we dance carefully around each other Stealthy and alert We poke and pry And make careful notes of each response. But allow ourselves to be curious  of the shape taking form in the stone As we each chip away at deceptions, mirages, and alluring sleights of hand. Our machetes drawn, we are determined  to clear out the briars of our own illusions. The taste of salt and blood rests soothing on my tongue.  And we find scars braid stronger where the skin was torn. ...
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