Thoughts of Puerto Rico today

there was a time in the 70’s,

it was a time that shaped the underbelly of me,

if you scratch my surface,

i will salsa and perform prayers in Santeria,

truth be told, this was such a performative period in my life, i feel it foretells much that follows.

life, music, spirituality, world view, enlightenment,

yes, life changing

when i was lost in the chaos of changes,

trying to understand my feelings and questioning my existence,

a stranger in Isla Verde at the Coco Mar hotel near the airport,

laid the resurrection plant under my bed,

With instructions on how to water it.

(for someone who considered themselves non-religious

this broke many token dogma bricks)

a watered herb, something i cared for, that came to symbolize my surrounding awakening,

there were many things that i did not understand, but trusted

because they were felt by me through people surrounding me, in music, in ocean air,

surround, surround, surround,

ocean, air, wind became my companions,

you opened my mind Puerto Rico

you opened my heart Puerto Rico,

My alma es tu, mi courazon es tu,

i was surrounded by so many angels there,

i never questioned their existence or legitimacy,

i was grateful, 

grateful to let go – the lies of the past, ha,

grateful for gaining a confidence in womanhood, ha,

and the island gave to me

joy, without judgement,

Puerto Rico validated me, to move forward,

does that seem strange to you? 

that the people practicing the vestiges of voodoo with compassion and mystery

would be the ones to lead me forward…

walk, walk, walk

backwards into the sea at dark,

with only the light of your veladoras,

while a mile down the shore

some of your antepasados graves wash into the waves,

in this salty current fall to your knees, and acknowledge knowing nothing, yet pray

with hope, as you’ve been told it has always been this way,

and be honest, expect nothing, 

open your eyes to what is this small rainforest

lapped at its edges by a deep wind driven sea,

surrender to the still day-warmed sand, ignoring the sand fleas

as you are lulled to sleep by the chorus of coquis

Memory of Parque De Palomas San Juan P.R.