Month: April 2024

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My Nocturnal Reveries

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As dusk gives way to the night’s embrace, my thoughts unfurl into a grand amphitheater of introspection. The stage is set, the spotlight dims, and the performance of my psyche begins. Here, in this hallowed hall of reverie, the drapes of my mind’s eye remain ever wide, revealing a panorama of paths once trodden and words left unvoiced. A gale of remembrance encircles me, a tempest born from the whispers and shadows of yesteryear. It dances through the corridors of my being, a choreography of chaos, each step a memory, each turn a tale untold. The stillness of the night … Continue reading My Nocturnal Reveries

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My dear,

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Who has whispered such untruths into your ear? Who dared to say your skin was anything less than beautiful? Look upon the earth, rich and teeming with life, and see yourself reflected in its depth. You are the color of the fertile ground from which all flowers spring forth. In the deep, rich soil, the seeds find their strength, and blossoms unfurl in a riot of color. Your skin is the canvas of continents, the shade of soil that cradles roots and nourishes beginnings. It is the hue of strength, the tint of resilience, the shade of endless possibilities. Like … Continue reading My dear,

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Walking in another’s shoes …

beatrizesmer

What must one do to thrive in a realm so different from their own? Is it enough to sit back, inhale deeply, and let the smoke carry away the coherent thoughts, leaving behind only the abstract musings of the night? Or is it to wander the desolate sands, where the only touch is that of a bullet’s kiss, or to endure the symphony of an infant’s cries that pierce the silence of the early hours? What fabric weaves the essence of you and me? If I step outside these walls that echo with the incessant call of ‘mom’, if I … Continue reading Walking in another’s shoes …

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30 minutes …

beatrizesmer

In the fleeting half-hour before the world calls again, I ponder—can the essence of life be unraveled in less time than it takes for the clock to complete its cycle? Perhaps not, but the quest is not without merit. Life, in its boundless forms, from the humble dog to the majestic giant squid, from the goldfish’s silent swim to the birds’ dawn chorus, and even the magnolia buds, poised in slumber—each a thread in the tapestry of existence. It’s all life, isn’t it? A complex web, yet at its core, startlingly simple. So here I sit, with twenty-six minutes on … Continue reading 30 minutes …

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My words …

beatrizesmer

In the fabric of life, every thread tells a tale, intertwined with the hues of our encounters. As I sit here, pen in hand, the world outside fades to a whisper, and the dance of words across the page becomes my sole reality. These words are more than mere symbols; they are the embodiment of my laughter and tears, the silent witnesses to the symphony of my inner world. They are the confidants of my secrets, the carriers of my joys, and the solace for my sorrows. With each stroke of the pen, I paint a portrait of my soul, … Continue reading My words …

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100 years old

beatrizesmer

Today, I am 100 years old, my heart dances to the rhythm of a tambourine, vibrant and resonant. “Give me a kiss, my love,” I whisper, for today is not just another day—it’s a testament to a life richly lived. Stepping onto the asphalt, I feel the pulse of the city, the heartbeat of the world beneath my feet. Around us, the fools may frolic, their laughter mingling with the symphony of existence. The red traffic light, like a vigilant sentinel, halts the march of time, if only for a moment. In my pocket, a few cents jingle—the price of … Continue reading 100 years old

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Whispers of the Cosmos

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The universe, a cosmic symphony, listens to our quiet pleas. It takes requests, not demands, weaving stardust into our fate. What is meant to be will unfurl, regardless of our fleeting emotions. The celestial loom spins threads of destiny, threading constellations through our souls. Life, a fragile vessel, cradles moments like precious gems. Too short for insipid wine, it beckons us to savor the nectar of existence. Meditate not on shadows but on sun-kissed dreams. Let bad relationships wither like autumn leaves, leaving space for love’s tender bloom. In the quiet corners of infinity, someone finds you irresistible. Their heart, … Continue reading Whispers of the Cosmos

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In Her Image

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I am my mother’s daughter, woven from the same celestial thread. Our souls, entwined across time, echo in the chambers of existence. My heart, a fragile vessel, mirrors hers. It knows the rhythm of both sinking and soaring—the ebb and flow of love’s tides. When she wept, I tasted salt on my own lips; when she laughed, my spirit danced alongside hers. My voice, a trembling reed, carries her legacy. It quivers with the weight of shared sorrows—the ache of loss, the ache of memory. In the quiet hours, I whisper her name, and the syllables tremble like leaves in … Continue reading In Her Image

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Canvas of Emotions

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Haven’t you ever wanted to be able to capture the raw emotion you feel when you’re depressed, petrified, elated, or in love? To have the complex ability to convey those feelings smoothly with ink, lead, or paint onto a blank piece of paper, acting as your canvas? In moments of deep solidarity, we become acutely aware of these feelings—those elusive, untranslatable emotions that defy the limits of language. They grip us tightly, like the weight of forgotten regrets and the ache of past mistakes. Tears well up, revealing only a hint of the complexity of sadness within. And then there’s … Continue reading Canvas of Emotions

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When You Miss Me

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If you miss me, let it not be in the quiet of solitude or the depths of despair. No, not then. For in those moments, my absence should not weigh upon your heart like an anchor. Instead, let it be when the sun dances upon your skin, when laughter echoes through your veins, and when life unfurls its vibrant tapestry before you. Let it be when you have everything—the world at your fingertips, dreams within reach, and joy bubbling up like a hidden spring. And yet, despite it all, a whisper of longing tugs at your soul. When the moon … Continue reading When You Miss Me