puerto rico, six years later

the beach was crowded. it stretched into the misty rocks beyond which we couldn't see. rays of light travelled through the humid air turning the sea a bluish gray, the sand clay. from where we stood it was not real. it was too damp. too unknown. but with a smile on our faces, we melted into their space. the mess slowly untangled itself into huddles of entire families, groups of friends, children floating nearby, lovers basking under the sun. they waved at us. 'look this is puerto rico, this is me, sitting in my chair, half-soaked in the sea, with a medella in my hand, gossiping with my curly-haired friend'. doesn't she look like tina turner, i said to you. 'let's run!' the little girl said pulling at her friend, and they ran like any two friends, at any point in time, at any place, their hands clasped tightly together.

we made our way back, leaving the beach behind, lonely. we had a wedding to attend.

isabela, puerto rico
taken by my great best photographer in the world friend gorkita

Ode 314

Those who don't feel this Love
pulling them like a river,
those who don't drink dawn
like a cup of spring water
or take in sunset like supper,
those who don't want to change,

let them sleep.

This Love is beyond the study of theology,
that old trickery and hypocrisy.
If you want to improve your mind that way,

sleep on.

I've given up on my brain.
I've torn the cloth to shreds and thrown it away.
If you're not completely naked,
wrap your beautiful robe of words around you,

and sleep.

- Rumi