Alicia Viguer-Espert

Spring Walk

 

My steeps mark the rhythm of birds’ perfect songs,

Nature’s Gregorian Chants.

 

Like a farmer I check for signs from heavens

hoping to be nurtured,

cleansed by rain,

a baptismal water analogue.

 

Trees duplicate the Temple’s columns,

the world resembles The Promised Land

and joy, like the many seeds

of a pomegranate, opens up from within.

 

 

 

Spring Blues

 

Crystal from an ancient Roman vase fills the air,

on my hands, a glass of jasmine tea already cooled

reflects on the edge of waves

rolling over the golden silica.

 

Small children take their clothes off,

before drawing with a weathered stick

names on the sand to secure them a place in the book of eternity.

 

The breeze carries the scent of iodine and fried calamary,

the sky, a Virgen Mary’s blue mantle invites

minds to slowly distill cosmic dreams.

 

There’s a reason why blue beckons

to rejoice kissing, jump rope, kite flying,

expand our lungs with songs of renaissance,

while flowers open up infinite doors

                                                hidden

in the heart of the sea.

 

 

 

April

 

I notice crusted grooves

carved by rain over the spongy land

as my right foot dances on the earth.

Pigeons take cover under a red awning,

and a lone seagull, far away from home,

sits with them in a convivial silence.

The scent from citrus blossoms,

honeysuckle mixes with damp soil,

everything is quiet but by birds

marking the entrance of April.

 

The white arms of jasmine blooms

open their five pearls in welcome,

and I ask myself, how should I        

welcome this season’s arrival,

what rains should I use to wash

my soul’s debris, how can I sit

in convivial silence with strangers

from another tribe, honor their ways?

What luminosity can I generate,

how should I live my life in April?