River Crossing

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Алексеев Виктор Иванович via Wikimedia Commons

This morning, I ran
to the edges
through the tall grassss

across                    the

                   rockislands

against a curtain of summer cicadas

where the tire swing hangs
from its wooden rusted nail

and whispered to myself, in the trails already etched into my mind…..

y vamos por este lado
                              y luego el otro!                    puedo cruzar aca? por aqui, vamos!

                                                 children waving their hands comehere!poraquijunevengavamoscomosedice estaaaaaa….??

choclando en cataratas

i thought the word was mask

we laughed

      I dreamt I took someone with me
that one who has the end of your novel
that one where everything make sense
that one who ties things up in a way you could have never

seen

                                                    like tying ribbon on a gift

and we watch the tiny ants carry large wood on their backs
             we watch everything en el suelo snake like
                                                     snake like float like
                                                     magic

                                                      a footstep to wake the sleeping banks of a river

the mud and water spiders
the fish who don’t have names
the living imprints

something different happens when I am in spanish
yo soy yo soy yo soy todo

I am everything
                             and owner of nothing

visiting a language
twirling a tongue

the cracks in the surface are not too

deep yet
the tablas are smooth
                                        I went to cruzar el rio this morning                                                                                                                       and even though it was harder

                       y somos de locos

I kissed each rock with my feet and

caressed the edges, through the cold rio down to the fount

and my feet wet and smile
and my ears blossomed
and my heart swelled

back to full

and the sweetness of time

expanded too in my chest
beyond not enough

and my arms stretched with it

estirando el tiempo
e    s       t       i         r        a      n        d       o

we come with these tools I said to a tree root, raiz I said
we are born from magic
from a wink in the sand and a tiny smile

                                                                donde nacimos

 

 

June Lucarotti, founder of Vola Sessions, teaches social-emotional skills and self-care techniques through yoga, meditation, and creative writing workshops for individuals, families, schools and other organizations throughout Colorado and the San Francisco Bay Area.