20 Feb

By Florencia Clement de Grandprey
Dibujo Florencia
“Time without our help invents houses, streets, trees sleeping women”
“We’ll testify to time and its conjugations”
Time continues regardless of our awareness of it
We must wake up to be witness of all time brings, or we could continue sleeping (unaware, unfocused, unintentional and miss time and our time here (our life could pass us by)-
I see this as a wake-up call to make time, our time meaningful.

By Octavio Paz
A tree grew inside my head.
A tree grew in.
Its roots are veins,
its branches nerves,
thoughts its tangled foliage
Your glance sets it on fire,
and its fruits of shade
are blood oranges
and pomegranates of flame.
Day breaks
in the body’s night.
There, within, inside my head,
the tree speaks.
Come closer–can you hear it?
–Octavio Paz

Creció en mi frente un árbol.
Creció hacia adentro.
Sus raíces son venas,
Nervios sus ramas
Sus confusos follajes, pensamientos.
Tus miradas lo encienden,
y sus frutos de sombra
son naranjas de sangre,
son granadas de lumbre.
En la noche del cuerpo.
Allá adentro, en mi frente,
el árbol habla.
Acércate, lo oyes?

By Sandra Sowelu
I married a tree once…
we have never needed to divorce…

By Maxine Kamin
The Spanish Angel

From dark to light
Night to day
The different poles
Dance to the dream
Swaying gracefully
In the breeze of life

I hear your heart
Feel your courage
See your soul
Shimmering with beauty

Your words touch my being
Your eyes reach within
I am enraptured
With awe and love
For who you are and what you say

You speak a different language
But my ears hear your heart
You are the soft angel of kindness
Brimming with hope.

By Maxine kamin
A frayed coat
Tries to keep the body warm
Struggling to cover
Each cold part
Wind tears the threads
A seamstress rescues
The cloth is whole again.

By Isabel Rimanoczy
The inner tree

We cannot see it grow
it is so still
yet it is an illusion
of stillness.

The inner tree
suddenly sparks blossoms
explodes in a Spring
spreads perfums
grows flowers
and creates fruit.
So much life fills me with joy.

The tree inside me, one day
turns its leaves into gold
It makes me sad.
Every moment they get darker
dry and wrinkled skin.
until they all fall off.
The tree remains naked,
and this makes me so sad,
that I cry for this end.
But this is also, another illusion.

By Mariam Tamborenea
Árbol, arbolito
Primera casita de la infancia.
Tronco alto desde el fondo de la tierra
que crece al cielo.
Raíces profundas
mis pies sumergen la tierra,
Me recorro de sur a norte
y luego las ramas se convierten
en brazos de este a oeste.
Llego al cielo con el corazón
y le susurro a la luna
los secretos del sol.
Silencio y bullicio de sentimientos…
Luego los frutos rojos,
el hilo rojo de la vida
que nos une y nos ata,
a la inmensa humanidad.
Las flores alborotan
la mirada de los otros.
“Esos todos, que nosotros somos”,
nos dijo Octavio Paz.

Y si respiramos in & out
percibimos que somos uno.



  • It was a wonderful opportunity for creating and sharing poems between us, the Minervas!

    • Posted by Mariam Tamborenea
    • February 21, 2017 at 6:29 pm

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