Changolita

From "Tales of the Nada

I am boarding my tiny vessel once again today.
I'm sailing away.
Happy to be leaving these shores I once pretended to be my home.
I thought I could make this place all mine-
if I wished it hard enough.
But then I remember-
that I am just a refugee-
from a wealthy family.
I took to the road to find out what my life might be.
It's not something I chose-
it's something that chose me-
the unfolding of my destiny.
Sometimes I am the quixotic windmill chaser-
more often I am a motherless child.
Sometimes someone finds me, a friend to walk the path I am walking.
They walk beside me for a while and then turn another way.
Many times I find myself alone-the snow falling like so many tiny
angels for my company.
Alone-
I look up to the heavens and watch the night sky fill up with stars.
"Mother moon look down on me --
Keep me safe in your lustral arms".

Untitled

Two o'clock in the morning and I'm not sleeping.
I'm sitting here thinking
about leaving.
I'm thinking about flying away.
I don't know what this is I'm writing.
Maybe this is a love letter to a soulmate,
perhaps it's an intellect's attempt at explanation,
or a heart's hidden secrets yearning to breath in the outside air,
or a child's wishful conversation in the hope that God is listening,
or maybe it's the ramblings of a quixotic warrior too long on the battlefield
without seeing much victory.
Whatever this is it's from me,
not the me you know in this moment,
but the me that sits inside watching
and recording the days that become the weeks,
that become the months that become the years,
that move with circularity through the seasons
that make the memories that makes the joy,
that makes the tears, that makes the fears,
that makes the laughter that makes the hope,
that makes the scars, that makes the dreams,
that fills the thoughts, that breaks the heart
that mends it again, that keeps me going
making footsteps down the paths,
through the fields,
down the darkened allies,
along the shore,
up the stairs
down the hall,

past all the moons that wax and wane
that are my life
heartbeat after heartbeat,
breath after breath.
This is the me that writes these words ....
and all I know is that I am going away...
to a place where I found my belonging,
back to the land of spirits,
to get my higher self nurtured,
to see what adventure lies around the corner.
I wonder if I will see the beauty that captivates my soul,
or if I will see the rough edges of a miserable reality.
Maybe I will see both and more. Who knows?
Now I'm thinking about all that gets taken for granted
as our senses are deadened by capitalism,
the anesthesia of vulgar materialism,
like so many addicts looking for a fix,
we say I love you" as easily as we say I'll have fries with that",
and soothe ourselves with the thought that tomorrow will be much like
today,
that not too much will change-
except that our desperation deepens.
So I find myself once again on the road,
looking for something real,
as real as all the passion I feel,
something to pour it out on
so it can be absorbed I
as water into a root,
feeding the living place where I am planted.

© 2005 by Changolita