It took me by surprise
and shook me like a leaf.
It cut me with its thorns
until my blood mourned.

It drowned me in tears
upon a bed of roses.
I flew high on its wings
into the blackest waters.

It connected all the dots,
unveiled secrets and lies.
I touched heaven with one hand
as my feet burned in hell.

Riding waves of shame,
deep into the beauty of sadness,
down the mountain of humility,
I faced the beast of fear.

I laughed mostly at my selves
and cried for all us women,
for Mother Earth, her creatures,
for Ukraine, Vietnam and the Fallen.

It broke my heart open-
but not my soul.
It unleashed my darkest fears,
laying bare my holiest parts.

First, I felt you beside me.
Then I became you,
and you became me-
until there was only One.

I am reborn, knowing
that love won’t kill me.
It only breaks me open,
letting the light flood in.

May its scent stay with me
as I descend back into my life.
May its colours shine brightly
through all my deeds and actions.

May my body and soul
stay impregnated with its record.
May it forever hold me
connected to the divine.

Because in the end,
there is no end-
only the pulse of existence.
Nothing is important; 
everything simply is.

It is through the silence
that we hear the crickets sing Jay!
and our hearts open up
to the beat of the cacao

it is through the silence
that we feel the sound of our roots 
entering the earth and the crackling of the fire 
lighting up our core

it is through the silence
that we tune into our own melody 
that of the person next to us
and mother earth’s lullaby

it is through the silence
that we hear our lover’s breath
humanity’s tears kiss the ground
and the source whispering into our crown

it is though the silence
that we notice the poems trickling down 
our ancestors’ memoirs floating in
and the footsteps of our soul to follow

it is through the silence
that we can ask permission
to centre, expand and receive 
and to heal all of our connections 

it is through the silence
that we are.

I lose myself
time and again
a million times
have I lost my selves
so many times
I became a seeker
I looked for gurus
I searched for healers
I tried to find god
and also some dealers
I looked for mother
and then for father
I searched the scriptures
and travelled the world
looking for something
looking for anything
I vanished in movies
in characters and names
I played them a thousand times
switched channels
always the same
I lost myself in them
in you and also him
until one day I pushed the button
the screen turned blank
and I was home.

545 meses. Se dice rápido.
545 pétalos en el papel.
¿Cuántas manchas pintabas?
¿Cuántas flores deshojaste?

Meses que parecen semanas,
Semanas que se sienten eternas.
El dibujo se construye,
El tiempo pasa y todo cambia.

¿Dónde acaba, si realmente acaba?
¿Dónde acabas tú y donde empiezo yo?
‘Lo verde sana', dijiste.
¿Quién sanó a quién?

Vivir conscientemente,
Contar hasta 100 sin distraerse.
Vivir la vida, sin decir ‘cuando’, parando.
Sin pensar, pintando.

–

Solo porque la obra está creada
El duelo no se acaba.
Solo porque el tiempo pasa,
Todo no se cura.

Tu sigues lanzando tacas,
Desde donde? No importa.
Poco a poco este verde se agota
Y la primavera, nuevos colores trae.

El tiempo pasa como todo pasa.
Ser del pasado y a la vez del presente,
Con nosotras estas siempre,
En las manchas y el papel.

Slowly we can see
the light we have dimmed down.
We start to feel
a strength we don’t let out.

Admiring others
is what we do intensely-
how they look, talk,
achieve, and how they move.

We submerge
and won’t let shine,
our best self
we hide behind.

Reclaiming our light
is hairy and takes courage,
to let it shine bright
without anyone to judge.

Even if it feels too big
and others uproarious,
share a magnificent gift,
and dare to be glorious.

Here we are again,
after what was not,
a walk in the Park.
Dancing in the great Hall,
skin to skin, aura to aura.
No more space for distancing,
Soaking it all in,
and releasing even more.
Complex human beings,
bound together by music
dancing in the Village,
green grass below our feet.
Fields intertwined,
exchanging glitter and sweat,
tears and breaths.
A long meditation,
experiencing belonging
to this Club of human beings.
Energy as technology,
and technology as creativity,
into dance and music.
To break us open,
let us lose control.
To make us feel,
to set us free.

We switch to summertime, and still, we clap.
By now, not just for those on the front lines.
We clap because we get to put our heads outside,
because we hear—and maybe even see—each other.
We clap to release energy,
to make noise, to feel our bodies.
We clap because we are alive,
because we have survived another day,
privileged enough to clap together.

We clap to keep things moving,
to motivate others, to motivate ourselves.
We clap because we need to be heard,
to connect, to give thanks—
despite everything, or perhaps because of it.

We clap, hoping our loved ones in hospitals and care homes hear us.
We clap to continue.
We clap because we can,
because we love.