Witch in the Closet

I’m a witch in the closet
I’ve forgotten where I hid my broom
Years ago
When they told me
Grow up

I’m a fairy at heart
Years ago I placed my wings
Inside a secret box and buried it
In the soft earthy belly of a thick green forest
Sometimes I forget
But I feel something is missing

One time I danced under the moonlight
I twirled and I sang
I laughed with the sheep in the field beside me
I nearly flew off the hilltop
And soared with the owls
Nearly

Sometimes I feel my pen is about to burst
Burst open with a thousand tales of my lost home
A thousand shimmering threads of every colour
To save me
To save us all
But ink is so thick and sticky

I’m a dreamer on the run
Searching for something
Just out of sight, just out of reach
Around one of these corners
It will all make sense

Around one of these corners
An ethereal bloom of light and flight
Another world
Fantastical creatures
A world protected by our vigil
By our glowing hands
From which sparks fly
Making magic

If I could write a thousand poems
If I could weave the lace for a thousand domes
If I could string them with drops of dew
If I could mold a ship for me and you
If I could set it asail among the stars
If I could reclaim what once was ours
Would you trust me and fly away?

Would I?

Let us make friends with our minds
With our hearts
Let us trust
So we may fly away at dusk

Silver sweet moonlight cold
And glistening
Please give me a potion for this moonsickness
So we may fly away at dusk
Back home

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Some

Where to go from here
The moon was a Cheshire Cat’s grin
And then some
The stars were dancing very wildly
A little too intensely if you wanted to sit quietly
Help me
Achy achy heart taking up too much space
Lungs pressed in-between the slots of the ribs
Night’s cloak rippling at the edges
And descending silently upon the day
The blue luminescence of twilight receding
Gently underground until dawn
Dusk reigns
Silver Cheshire Cat teeth
Gleaming
Heart banging and trying to get out
Trying to fly and sparkle like the whirling stars
Velvety tree limbs reach towards the blanket of sky
Stark against the last of the day’s light
Soon they will disappear beneath Night’s billowing cape
Slip away
Help me run across this open field
And find freedom
Stuck behind a smile
I want freedom
The silver scythe blade moon
And winking stars
All so enticing
And then some
Set me free
Beneath the wild dance of the night.

Written February 2013

DSCF6775
Gibaja, Spain, 2015

Hogar Crepuscular

(English translation follows)

El río brilla
con los últimos rastros
de la luz del día.

La gente corre y camina por la ribera
grita y se ríe
anda en bici y llama a sus perros.

El aire está cálido y suave contra la piel,
turbio como el agua del río
con tinta de rosa en el oeste.

El sol duerme ya
una astilla de la luna
se ha levantado sigilosamente en su lugar
mientras los pájaros buscan refugio en los árboles
nada más que siluetas negras contra el cielo.

Este no es mi hogar
pero a la vez
sí lo es, y más ahora que nunca.

Cuando el día se rinde
tierno y digno
a la noche

y los dos pasan un momento unidos
crean otro mundo en el cual no hay países ni diferencias
y todos somos de la misma familia
compartiendo la respiración del crepúsculo.

¿Quién soy yo y quién eres tú
cuando la tierra se pone tan misteriosa
entre la luz y la oscuridad
si no los hijos e hijas de este planeta verde y azul?

Crecí muy lejos de aquí
pero reconozco mi hogar
en el crepúsculo.

Aun el reloj deja de contar
y el mundo se revela a ser mucho más
que las divisiones que creamos durante el día

en este momento
antes de que caiga la noche voluble
estamos todos juntos
en casa.

***

Home at Dusk

The river shines
with the last traces
of the day’s light.

The people run and walk on the riverbank
yell and laugh
ride their bicycles and call their dogs.

The air is warm and soft against the skin
turbid like the river water
dyed pink in the west.

The sun sleeps already
a sliver of the moon
has risen silently in its place
as the birds search for refuge in the trees
nothing more than black silhouettes against the sky.

This is not my home
but at the same time
it is, and more now than ever.

When the day surrenders
tender and dignified
to the night

and the two share a moment united
they create another world in which there are no countries or differences
and we are all the same family
sharing twilight’s breath.

Who am I and who are you
when the earth turns so mysterious
between light and darkness
if not the sons and daughters of this green and blue planet?

I grew up far away from here
but I recognize my home
at dusk.

Even the clock stops counting
and the world reveals itself to be much more
than the divisions we create during the day

in this moment
before the fall of capricious night
we are all together
at home.

Evening Ballet Class Through a Window

Pink and light as flamingo feathers
Floating on the hot air current
Above the creamy white radiator
Along the wall where they wait

One at a time
Little slippered feet
Soft leather soles
Across the worn hardwood floor
Little arms clad in white
Reaching skyward

Beyond the window panes
Night begins to press against the glass
Cool air a twilight blue

Pink tulle fluttering up and down
Smooth faces but gleaming eyes
One at a time
A tall teacher in black and blue
Gliding to and fro

Breath like a puff of smoke
In the night air
Fogs the window
A blur of soft pastels

Starlight begins to speckle
The cobble stone street
Until the droplets run into pools
Of warm yellow light
Cast from the studio lamps within

The hallway door opens
Mothers collecting their daughters
Young and yet unguarded
Coats over leotards
Home to dinner

Night has fallen
The evening walker strides
Through the street
Pebbles crunching
Boots and stone
The yellow studio
Shrinking behind
As the stars swell above
Home to dinner