bringing visions from sky to earth

big surnot all spiritual beings fly. some are grounded, really rooted with their feet heavy like rocks and hands colored with earth, because they need to see the planet and its inhabitants from close-up, not from the sky. with open eyes, beaming like rays of sunlight through glass, coloring inner vision, lines, shades of red and yellow. the poetry of forms in matter, in the imperfections. with heart radiating the rhythm and pulsations of blood… they need to be so close that the exhalations of divine breath create fog on the window that looks out to the field vetro portawhere animals live according to their instincts, fog on the camera lens, on the contact lenses, on the skin in contact. bodhisattva, welcome to our world. the wind of your breath – slow as the ocean – brings messages, sighing together with the waves of human events, small and pretty like stones, rounded and carried by the river to the ocean with the water always in movement, nuances of eternal blue.

for Piovra Caffè, written in the Esalen Art Barn, September 2013

gli esseri spirituali non volano tutti. alcuni sono atterrati, ben fondati, con i piedi come rocce e le mani colorati di terra… Continue reading

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my life

termenow that it’s finally time,
the only moment that is really guaranteed in life,
I have just a few minutes to think
or stop myself from thinking by chanting,
“intanto, da sempre. rifanno il disegno le stelle…”
and so on, to remember and connect
to prepare to forget…events, ties.

I force myself to breathe.
it’s the only thing to do, the only thing that counts anymore.
with gratitude in my heart for every breath.
I breathe in deeply, hold,
exhale, out…it’s a good thing I practiced all this time
for this moment when breath has become metratura.
all these years constantly breathing
as an initiate, healer, teacher and guide.

have I finished? have I closed everything I needed to?
bank accounts?
books after reading to the last page?
conflicts suspended in the air for so long?
and all the things, everything
there is and that was
that there is and has been
to say, scream, paint, learn and create
dream.
with gratitude for the spectrum of emotion
every feeling from fury to ecstasy
lived fully.
I leaves traces of creations, writings, few possessions.

fire at the Open Temple

I am grateful for every fire. the Sacred Fire
the one for my birthday, the nucleo
the one from Spiritual Healers School and Ecstatic Dance
the one to light the bonfire and the ones for every New Year,
Purification of the People, days for honoring the elements,
Day of the Dead,
the one to burn leaves
and the ones of the sun and the moon
offered during Solstice and Equinox,
a chain of moments
fixing my imprint of awareness
in the territory of time.

closed. did I turn off the faucet in the bathroom this morning?
did I turn off the iron after I ironed this outfit?
which I selected as the last expression of fashion and choice
fluorescent kimono and cowboy boots
to express my Texas-Asian ethnic roots
until the last breath.
ah, yes. I need to remember to breathe.

did I say it all?
did I say “I love you” to everyone I love?
saying it while looking the person in the eye without using
the compromise of “ti voglio bene” in Italian,
which doesn’t even exist in English,
either “I love you” or “I don’t.”
then, all the other words aren’t so important.
all the novels that I wrote,
that will live beyond me.
if people will read them, if they won’t,
they will read the stars, which I will become.

dance freedomdid I dance every chance I had?
enjoying the body while it was here
while it’s here.
now with my final breaths,
beautiful trascendental music,
and I dance with the lungs,
with eyes that peek open and take in
clouds and fog,
with the heat and the cold that alternate in my veins,
with my toes, which I don’t feel anymore
even though I move them with the will of my mind.

all this. now. whether I am prepared or not.
I enter into the door that brings me to the threshold.
to fly, onward to the next adventure,
toward enlightenment,
beyond eternity.

la mia vita

Adesso che é proprio il momento,
l’unico momento veramente certo nella vita,
ho pochi minuti per pensare,
o allontanare i pensieri,
attraverso il canto:
“intanto, da sempre, rifanno il disegno le stelle…” Continue reading

gratitude in blue

I am grateful for the sky. I am grateful for the sea. if I were to continue writing only about the blue things I am grateful for, I would be sitting here for two days anyway. I am grateful every time I see you, every time I salute you, the salutation – the Damanhurian one, very upright and spiritual, hands together, bowing, yes I am here, I am here (con te e per te) with you and for you and you are with me and for me. thanks, until next time! and those that are more informal and out of control, hugging each other so hard that the ribs cave in and I can’t breathe. I am grateful for breaths, the ones after ecstatically tight squeezing hugs, and the long, slow, pranic ones, and the last one before sleep, mixing in with the colors behind the eyes and the signs that flow faster than memory, the one first thing in the morning that reawakens the lungs and expands like rays of sunlight. wait am I writing about hugs or breaths? or eyes. salutation in silence, my favorite, connecting with each other in a gaze, without words, loosing ourselves in the sea of luminous souls, solar explosion temporarily trapped in human form. we’re so funny, we human beings. immense! more immense than we can imagine, containers of entire universes that shine through windows a centimeter in diameter. I am grateful for eyes that are deep as the sea, as the sky, blue, pure and every color winking an eternal code.

sono grata per il cielo. sono grata per il mare. se continuassi a scrivere solo sulle cose blu per le quale sento gratitudine, starò qui due giorni comunque… Continue reading