my path

i have taken a road only I could have taken

have loved only in the way that I can
maybe it’s taken some time to learn how
but in this trail traversed I have found
that jagged edges can be honed smooth
and thorns can be removed
for the path goes on even without me
but I wish to be on it for this is why
i am here
in my little world that i have traveled
i wish and hope that when i loved someone
i have been loved

if in my journey and when i’ve met you,

i hurt you by word or deed, it was not my intent
so i’m sorry. i only wish for you the best of me
if i have misunderstood your face, your touch
your heart then it is my misgiving and
when we meet again i hope to give you that
best of me for i only wish to love and be loved
as i continue to walk on this winding road
with all kinds of pebbles, sharp and smooth
under my feet, i shall strive to be better,
to be kinder, to love

Maya Angelou

Her smile touched me because I smile

Her heart touched me as mine beats, still
And in between her words enveloped the spirit of life
She embraced all souls with her song of verve
 

As she walked in our midst she emitted the character of

all the giants of life that came before; when she cried, we cried,  
when she spoke we listened, her paint on the canvas of life
cannot be and should not be remembered as a style, a time piece
but a piece of art that transcends beyond.

I will not make reference to Maya Angelou's history, the chronology

of her life of action, their will be many who will do this. She transcends all this

"Listen to your inner self in quietude and maybe you can hear the voice of God"

gracias, Maya Angelou: RIP   

dreams of 'old'

for who is it more challenging to let go?

the man whose body once made of iron
muscular but lean and handsomeness
myth be told of chiseled cheek and jaw
and hair of onyx

or

a woman whose body curves when lying

on the beach would cause the sun to take
one last glimpse as it nested into the horizon.
her eyes and lashes fluttering, her silken skin
and wondrous bosom with lovely shapely legs
of milk and silken skin glisten in a starry night   

but

probably better said by Miquel de Uno Muno,

writing about the following;  
we wish to be taken seriously being recognized by
the complexity of our makeup, though we must
remember, while we live in this mundane existence
we are encapsulated in a shell made of skin and bone,
therefore, beauty  (in the eye of the beholder) and
sex are integral to our character for that is what we
learn to see, to touch, to feel, to love.

in our youthful naiveté, we would, oh, so carelessly

and unabashedly assert that we are more than
just body and ‘beauty is only skin deep’. we would
profess that we had exercised our minds equally
so please don’t peer at my beauty. now that time
has so quickly lapsed and the body walks at a slower
step, the eyes see through a fog and no one peers
at with the same desire, the question arises: of
whom, man or woman,  does willingness come more
readily to accept the passing of time, aging?

Desiderata; ‘…take kindly the counsel of the years,

                         gracefully surrendering the things of youth ‘

 

Love in a satchel

 

i cannot catch all those lonely tears

your eyes spill out nor can i embrace
you the way I’d like for distance is our
challenge yet my soul carries in his
virtual satchel the laconic memories
we have shared

the colors of crimson and azure blue

and the verdant green that glisten through
the tiny droplets of rain as the sun’s
yellow golden fingers tickle them and the
upside down rainbow smile evinces
reminding me of you

the soft and milky white of the

iris peddles bloom as the purple pink
lilacs scent is in the air and any where
there’s room. it fills my mind with the
recollection of your skin and the
waft of your perfume

i shall carry this with me

as I stroll through the days journey and

onto life’s sojourn and far beyond these
tender moments we’ve shared i shall
carry in the satchel of my soul.
on and on and on ~~~

letter...'wonder why'

when young breath filled our lungs

and a piece of bread was shared
when I’d cry you’d cry and when I’d
sing you’d sing we’d watch mama cry
and together we’d wonder why

we had little of what others had

but we had each other when young
breath filled our lungs and we’d look
around and others looked different
than us and they’d laugh at us but
we’d hold hands, curious we’d stare back
and wonder why

now that life has taken us in different roads

and young breath no longer fills our lungs
time has taken hermanos and hermanas
from our hold and the breathe in our lungs
so painfully evacuated when life took Mama
distance now threatens our shared existence
and we wonder why

there’s few left who shared our youthful air

can we sing again together, share another
piece of bread, come hold  each other’s hand,
watch others stare at us through this veneer
called love, the sustenance that has prevailed
within our spirit and assuage the angst and pain
and no longer shall we wonder why