~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
IF MY HANDS COULD HEAL

If my hands could heal,
I would save you.
If my hands could heal,
I would pray so hard that my palms would glow,
raining the secrets of this wise woman upon your fragile body.
If my hands could heal,
I would smooth the wet from your feathers,
and make you a nest from the new green grass.
If my hands could heal,
I would set you a new pair of wings
to fly deep into the trees,
to find your family among the tall branches.
Instead I sing to heal you.
My eyes meet your dazed expression,
and I pour love and blessings into the crown upon your head...
into the air between us...
calling truth in every breath,
love in every tear,and
a prayer inbetween the raindrops.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THE RAIN, THE OWL, AND ME

I stand inbetween the raindrops.
I stand in sadness.
The owl infront of me is wounded and dying.
Tears come to my eyes,
and a pain sits in my throat.
I am helpless,
I am human,
I do what I know how,
I sing to this suffering creature.
I pray over his wet body
that his spirit will remain strong.
In his feathered crown I see a light and a distance...
So I give...so I sing..
a song honoring the beauty of this wet afternoon.
A friend beside me,
the earth below me,
a bird in front of me,
and the sky above a mix of wet and sadness...
all aching for a breath of sweet relief.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PEACE BE WITH YOU

I dreamed that the end was near,
my body unshielded,
I threw myself at the mercy of my enemy.
In fear I prayed,
for what I do not know.
Courage, strength, compassion perhaps,
but salvation blew in as the masts
sailed full glory
on my ship of destiny's rain.
Peace be with you I said.
I repeated the phrase to the sky,
to the Earth,
to my enemy and myself.
The more I uttered compassion,
the more I recieved peace.
I was no longer fearful of what fists
could break my bones.
I gained strength in spades.
Peace be with you my friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

INVISIBLE PANTS

I came to the kitchen wearing my invisible pants.
Ate peaches from the jar
to your dismay
spilled juice on the floor.
I stepped in it myself,
let sticky toes reach the counter,
and smiled.
I apologized and got away with it.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MIDNIGHT

I awoke at the end of the storming.
Moonlight became midnight,
rolling thunder like wild horses
racing across the sky,
rushing to meet the mountains
on the other side.
The lightning was replaced with birdcalls.
The dark blankets of rain fell
like rivers crying
for Mother Mary herself.
I dreamed of pages destroyed
to pages reborn and glowing.
My words in a thousand journals
all echoing the same prophecy
of a woman speaking her truth
like a prayer.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THE PONDERING

In a time such as this,
ear to the ground,
I writhe and I struggle,
feeling so bound...
to societies demands
with jewel dipped hands
eager to stop the hour glass sands.
The word to the masses
is stuck between classes
a silver surfer pinball
a silver surfer pinball.
They call it forward motion,
a vast choppy ocean,
waiting to sink or swim,
waiting to sink or swim.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

©2002 Aura Valdes

email: auravaldes@hotmail.com