When All Else Fails

Today I was ignored by the deserted hills .
The colors of the sky didn't distracted my eyes
I was mired in heavy thoughts,
As balls of steel tied to my feet.

I crumbled before the face of adversity.
Someone touched my feelings because I am of flesh and blood,
and my soul and spirit allowed it

Insanity inhabits my being, while my mind is searching for common sense.
An inner voice speaks: When all else fails, talk to yourself.

I am talking to you my dear loneliness,
in you there is not betrayal, You are authentic.
In You I abandon myself to the reality that prompts me to discard anything that hurts, becoming a child in the arms of your patience.

Tomorrow I will come back with my head up high,
the mountains will speak to me.
With the wind on my favor I will dance to my fears.
Tonight, I have decided that at morning I will be fine.

Torn Between Two Worlds

Floating in the atmosphere as the air I breathe;
are the prisoners of my infinite love.
Like sparkles shining in the sky;
are my people, my family .

Fulfilling my dreams, sometimes I must fly,
And I leave the nostalgia at the speed of light
barefooted on the puddles of rain, I run.
like fuel to my senses, I smell the wet earth.

Writes in my soul the hand of the unknown,
a greeting, smiles, salutes.
The spring, summer, and winter become witnesses,
as it rise from the earth, a rebirthing mind.

And I would like to live life imitating a snail,
To take twenty years from my door to my port,
And that the clock would lose its hands,
And yesterday, today and tomorrow would join together at dawn.

The morning comes with a flag at half mast
Yesterday the mariachi sang to a regressive count
The lazy swallow must return.
Prisoners of my infinite love,
for you I live, for you I die.

The escape from the sun to my moons,
breaks my heart in a thousand pieces,
deceiving my love in the intent,
worsen my emptiness even greater.

On the other side of the sun are resting
bare feet surrendered. The luggage returns to the closet.
In my heart begins a persistent beat;
with the longing of wanting to go home.

THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

I like to explain that this butterfly came in the house and it was released after the picture was taken.

photo taken by LaMore.

From the heart

She is the best invention, the eternal embrace

The warmth in my winter, the splendor of dawn.

She is the kiss of a flower.

I painted her smile, that’s what she said,

She erases my anxieties, that’s what I said.

The journey is endless, the danger awaits its prey
And I pray for her day after day.

My heart is the tomb where I keep her relics

the song of angels so sweet to my ears.
I washed her mistakes with my tears,

and healed her wounds with my love.

Lazily time passes as I embroider the lace

that will adorn her wedding dress.

The unborn Grandchildren play in the patio

while grandmother sings "The tale of the frog".

Flowers from my garden don’t tell her that I cry,

tell her about the white butterfly that comes in the morning,

and about the hummingbird that drink from your juices.

Blessed is the night when I dream of myself

crossing the bridge of her eyebrows,

to see a bright smile swinging in the arc of her lips.

LaMore.