The ocean waits for me each day,
born to that spot before me,
born to that spot before me,
a fluid statue
upholding the knowledge
that I will come.
upholding the knowledge
that I will come.
I am here
to cast shadow castles
in the sand,
build dreams at my feet.
to cast shadow castles
in the sand,
build dreams at my feet.
I sit at the end of the street
where the road ends abruptly,
where the road ends abruptly,
falling its paved loose
chunks of asphalt
into the tides.
chunks of asphalt
into the tides.
Ocean mixes with sand, trash
and international tourists
tanning on the beach -
and international tourists
tanning on the beach -
there is stillness here
on the half broken stairs
to somewhere.
on the half broken stairs
to somewhere.
My back is up against
the torn rusted barb wire fence,
the torn rusted barb wire fence,
which supports me just enough,
so I can dangle my feet
dangerously
so I can dangle my feet
dangerously
over the precipice
of the suddenly terminated road,
of the suddenly terminated road,
which from my current vantage point,
leads to nowhere.
leads to nowhere.
I am doing nothing in particular,
except humming and overheating,
except humming and overheating,
simply turning the weeks,
and the world’s events
over in my mind -
and the world’s events
over in my mind -
I wait for the sun to set,
to end the day,
in this part of the world ...
to end the day,
in this part of the world ...
then two sisters appear
beside and above me.
beside and above me.
The youngest at twelve,
stands shyly on the road,
at the top of the stairs -
her hand on the railing
ready to brace,
in case
she suddenly falls
from innocence.
stands shyly on the road,
at the top of the stairs -
her hand on the railing
ready to brace,
in case
she suddenly falls
from innocence.
The elder, fifteen,
little by little
ventures down the staircase,
little by little
ventures down the staircase,
onto the sand,
into my line of vision,
where I am
kicking up my heels.
into my line of vision,
where I am
kicking up my heels.
At first I thought
the sisters were from Mexico,
the sisters were from Mexico,
part of the socialist tourism fraction
which arrive smuggling
which arrive smuggling
their army of smells
from Canada, Russia, Mexico, France and Spain.
from Canada, Russia, Mexico, France and Spain.
Descending daily
into this body of heat
the planes disembark
their foreign cargo
into this body of heat
the planes disembark
their foreign cargo
of international ambassadors
who reflect the rising tide
of socialist market economies.
I study the sister girls,
they possess
relaxed natural beauty
and an unspoiled intelligence.
who reflect the rising tide
of socialist market economies.
I study the sister girls,
they possess
relaxed natural beauty
and an unspoiled intelligence.
The girls laugh and point
to their origins,
only a few yards from here,
near,
very local.
to their origins,
only a few yards from here,
near,
very local.
The sister’s steps
forward to befriend me
are cautious,
typical in Cuba,
yet something
novel within them
shines through -
connecting us
to each other,
as we move the dance
into deeper communication.
forward to befriend me
are cautious,
typical in Cuba,
yet something
novel within them
shines through -
connecting us
to each other,
as we move the dance
into deeper communication.
I am fascinated,
not so much
by the form
the girls’ identity
starts to take,
not so much
by the form
the girls’ identity
starts to take,
but by how
their awkward
freedom of movement
plays out
into a display ...
their awkward
freedom of movement
plays out
into a display ...
of child-like
wonder and amusement,
an exhibition
that charms
any and all
fears away.
wonder and amusement,
an exhibition
that charms
any and all
fears away.
Their childlike innocence is magnetic
amidst the pull of Havana’s sophistication.
amidst the pull of Havana’s sophistication.
The eldest, bored by stillness,
wanders about the sand
investigating everything underfoot -
wanders about the sand
investigating everything underfoot -
as if she has never seen a beach before,
even though the ocean is her doorstep.
even though the ocean is her doorstep.
We talk about the politics of fish bones
and the society of life in the ocean.
and the society of life in the ocean.
The sun crowns
the girl’s long dark hair
with a glow of wonder,
the girl’s long dark hair
with a glow of wonder,
adding a communal sparkle
to their homemade,
handmade, seashell jewelry -
their all, and everything,
highlights the knowing
shining from within them
outward
through their eyes,
the windows of their Soul,
their life force is vibrant,
clearly present.
to their homemade,
handmade, seashell jewelry -
their all, and everything,
highlights the knowing
shining from within them
outward
through their eyes,
the windows of their Soul,
their life force is vibrant,
clearly present.
They giggle
as I describe the ocean
and sand elsewhere
in Canada, Mexico, Florida.
as I describe the ocean
and sand elsewhere
in Canada, Mexico, Florida.
Girlishly they cling around my neck,
all coral pink smiles,
ruffled fringed skirts
and fingers
entangling my hair ...
all coral pink smiles,
ruffled fringed skirts
and fingers
entangling my hair ...
I become shy
at their unrestrained affection,
at their unrestrained affection,
and look down
at the purple seaweed
woven between their toes and mine,
creating a cultural tapestry of togetherness,
framed healthy,
peacefully cherubic.
at the purple seaweed
woven between their toes and mine,
creating a cultural tapestry of togetherness,
framed healthy,
peacefully cherubic.
I overcome my shyness
and open my heart further
to receive their loving kindness -
and open my heart further
to receive their loving kindness -
as their love penetrates deeper
I see more clearly,
I see
that their faces possess
I see more clearly,
I see
that their faces possess
an emotional spirit of comfort,
a sweet smell of consistency
a sweet smell of consistency
enveloped
by the pleasure
of childhood
vulnerability ...
by the pleasure
of childhood
vulnerability ...
these forces of their true nature
sculpt an uncommon awareness,
sculpt an uncommon awareness,
a self-determined self-sufficiency
heroic in it's inquisitiveness.
heroic in it's inquisitiveness.
Through the freedom these girls grant themselves,
I am born again
by their natural invigorating
qualities of curiosity -
I am enthused
and inspired
to my core
to again begin
yet another round
of new beginnings.
~~ Other People's Fingerprints ~~
In 1963 Carilda Oliver Labra wrote;
“Please, don’t point your weapons at the sky:
the sparrows are terrorized,
and it’s springtime, it’s raining, the meadows are ruminating.
Please, you’ll melt the moon, the only night light of the poor.
It’s not that I’m afraid, or a coward. I’d do everything for my homeland;
but don’t argue so much over your nuclear missiles,
because something horrible is happening and I haven’t had time enough to love.”
by their natural invigorating
qualities of curiosity -
I am enthused
and inspired
to my core
to again begin
yet another round
of new beginnings.
~~ Other People's Fingerprints ~~
In 1963 Carilda Oliver Labra wrote;
“Please, don’t point your weapons at the sky:
the sparrows are terrorized,
and it’s springtime, it’s raining, the meadows are ruminating.
Please, you’ll melt the moon, the only night light of the poor.
It’s not that I’m afraid, or a coward. I’d do everything for my homeland;
but don’t argue so much over your nuclear missiles,
because something horrible is happening and I haven’t had time enough to love.”
