magic is a simple thing...

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Recognize all of the flowers and trees in the garden. Hydrangeas, geraniums, lemon trees, roses, pomegranates, hibiscus, oleanders, olive trees, bouganvillae. Know which ones are edible, which ones are toxic, which ones attract birds, which repel insects. Smell everything.

Look up at the full moon, and start bleeding the same night. Work with the transformative energy. Keep the window open as you sleep, curtains drawn. Let her shine her light on you. Talk to her as you fall asleep. Remember when you used to glow too.

Be distracted by a scarab beetle in the sand, while reading Ovid's Metamorphoses. Wonder at the coincidence. Watch the scarab go its own way after having crossed your beach towel.

Look closely into the darkness. There's stone snakes living under the mountains. They usually come out at night. Not easy to miss, head as big as a small car.

Walk into the sea. Cup water in your hands and bring it above and over your head three times. Dive into the waves. Go in, with all your head. Underwater. Feel.
Talk to the sea. It understands poetry best.
Now sing to it. The first song will call fish to you. If you're not scared bigger fish will follow the small ones.
The sea recognises you now when you walk into it. It recognises your voice. It'll send waves to greet you. It will gently carry you to the shore when you wish to leave.
Talk to the sea. It is far reaching. Powerful, a good friend to have.
Sing to it again. But now sing into it, sing deep, radiate your song. Careful if you're on a boat. This might cause storms.

Keep salt on your skin and sand in your hair. Keep the wind.
Walk barefoot.
Wear kajal eyes, silver jewellery and pearls. Have bedouin dreams.

in the small things...

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leaving the umbrella at home and going out in the rain, wild hair getting even curlier under the raindrops
thunderstorms at night, or in the early morning
watching flowers blossom, slowly, day after day
bike rides in the park, summer almost here, people running, cycling, playing cards, walking dogs, barbecues, football, lying in the grass, family
running water
the smell of bread
clothes air drying outside of windows
cobblestones

My dark mountains

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Earth, my earth, my dark mountains, my clear night, my cold air of summer's end, my moon halo. Tree-lined boulevards and white stone sidewalks. A black cat with frozen eyes looks at me from under a car. Wild cat, unkempt fur and wolf tendons. The railway underpass, graffiti and steel, and buses going to Fiumicino. Slavic faces. Arabs at the fruit stand tidying up peaches in perfect rows, with a cigarette and a smile. Wool jumper, grocery bags, smell of bread. Flour hands. Boiled must, dense as blood. A café, young boys sitting outside in the five o'clock light. Cathedral square and a marionette show. Pulcinella receives love letters. Peeping in to look at the puppeteers, shuffling feet and voices without faces. Lost children's looks, adults sitting on the fountain. The popcorn stand, and cotton candy. And walking through the streets remembering my childhood's places, and others that have changed. And remembering Christmas and long summers of slowly-flowing time, when august still smelled of sea and sand.

home

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there are some places, sometimes, that change you. there are some things, sometimes, that change you. or maybe the change was already happening inside, and you only needed a trigger, or an excuse, because otherwise people would ask too much, wondering at the newness.
is this too much of a cliche?
its true though. i feel a stillness that wasn't there before. as if i'd stopped fidgeting with life, finally. as if i was sure, for the first time. clarity, determination. maybe i am sure. maybe i am afraid, still afraid. the fear never really goes away, i guess.
…somewhere i read that the more afraid you are of something, the more important it is that you follow that path, for that is where true growth is.
back home now, and adjusting is always difficult. fighting now to keep the stillness, the light. holding the memories, cherishing them. carving them a space inside me for them to stay. this i will not forget.

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