sábado, 31 de agosto de 2024
Becoming
lunes, 16 de octubre de 2023
the place i know
the only place I know
to experience divine wisdom
is in this earth’s body
where I live
with blood bone breath
oxygen carbon hydrogen…
mitochondria humming
in an eternal dance
part of a larger serpentine
winged being…
arising from an unnamed
primoridal ocean
coming ashore rhythmically
again and again
with each heartbeat
—Lorena
domingo, 3 de septiembre de 2023
Falling
falling
I am falling
as you may be falling too
falling
into the earth
into realms of rest and dreams and soul
the realm of love
each one of us can be falling
falling into love
into love's embrace
as we stand in her grace
she flows down our arms
down our legs
past our knees
into the the earth
all demons who have spoken
in our minds
wherever they came from
who have spoken for too long
fall away...
—Lorena Wolfman
domingo, 18 de junio de 2023
resurgido
el cardón venenoso de largas espinas
se ve glorioso en el calor de la tarde
sus capullos brotándose
tinte cochinillo fucsia mexicana
delicados como las alas de una mariposa desplegándose
para encontrarse con el viento
el instinto de emprender vuelo
solo apenas disfrazado
por sus astilladas espinas de hueso
a punto de matar
la mayor parte del tiempo parece que está en la agonía
de una muerte lenta
sus brazos abiertos la cruz de la angustia que carga
pero ahora resurgido se encuentra transfigurado
henchida su carne verde turgente
anhelo de reventarse
en canción de flor y transparencia
y aún sus espinas se abren
un espectáculo de santo resplandeciente
anunciando su luminosa amenaza
brillando a la luz del sol
a punto...
—Lorena Wolfman
miércoles, 14 de junio de 2023
arisen
the long spined poisonous cardon
looks glorious in the afternoon heat
her buds pressing themselves open into flower
mexican fucshia cochinil dye
delicate as butterfly wings unfolding
to meet the wind
the instinct to take flight
disguised only barely
by her bone slivered quills
poised to pierce flesh
most of the time she looks like she is in the throes
of a slow death
her outspread arms
the cross of the agony she bears
but now arisen
she stands transfigured
having grown into her turgid green flesh
longing to burst
into the song of blossom and translucency
and still her spines flay open
in a show of saintly radiance
announcing their luminous threat
shining in the sunlight
poised…
—Lorena Wolfman
she knows the shadows she casts
on an occasional visit
to a far corner of the garden
the palo dulce tree in full flower
white sprigs waving in the breeze
tells me of the abidding of trees
it's hot
the winds blow in from up north
where the world is on fire
and I am wondering about shade
where it may fall and when
she in her lush rooted sweetness
knows
she witnesses the movement of the sun
from horizon to horizon
and even knows nocturnal shadows
intimately
all around her shadows
form and dissolve changing shape
stitching a gown that is the dance itself
sometimes like lace
sometimes like ruffles
sometimes hanging heavy like muslin
then ineffable
taking flight on the air
her ball gown is haute couture
a dark transparent body
forming and dissolving
changing shape
here and not here
there and not there
the palo dulce
native to this land
through drought and rain
through clouds moonlight and sun
abides endures and even flourishes
she knows the dance of the shadows she casts
-- Lorena
illumined scroll
the advent of writing on an illumined screen
seduced by the light
drawn by the flame
like a moth
by instinct
towards something more ineffable
more absolute and conclusively open
than this fragile human life
on an illumined scroll we tap with our fingertips
and by some invisible mechanism of longing
words appear
moving us towards center
not to be mistaken for form
more like the sun burning
something closer to plasma
even finer
making our passage on earth somehow
indellible uncompromised in its delicacy
in the grand and smallest scale of things
beyond the opaque metamophosis of pen and paper
the light arises from
beyond thought
—Lorena Wolfman