By Heart

When I was three years old

I knew

where my heart was taking me

Illustration by Anita Pelayo Rivera

before

my head

could plan my destiny.

He was an average-sized man.

My father's fingers

short, blistered and used to the tedious work

of

upholstering furniture for a living

glided over the piano keys

like

clouds across a full moon.

Today

I'm 62 and now it's my turn.

This piece of music that I know

By Heart

will be the subject of my studies

now

that I am retired from teaching.

Back when my father played

Clair de Lune

and

when I hear it now

its reflective arpeggios

and

tonic genius

make me feel as if I'm the only one

in the world

meant to hear the poetry

of the moon.

What whispers unspeakable words of love

to you?

 

It was a Beautiful Day

In the neighborhood

Until a seed that had been growing 

for 23 years

in the heart of our neighbor

sprouted up one day

as a thorn 

 as a result of his consistent cultivation

of 

unforgiveness and brokeness.


We were hurt. We were angry.

But now 

we are healing.

I am so grateful. I am beyond joyful to know

that every day I have a chance 

to raise my heart to the sun

like the daisies of the field

and ask for the power 

to love the broken

as I have been loved

for I too am broken. 

We all are. 

Be we can fix it all.  

It's not easy to live out 

but 

it's not that difficult to start:

harbor your ship

in 

gentle waters.

Hate has no place on this journey of mine. 

I want to live.