Since I was little, my mother held my hand, guiding me through life’s labyrinth. She taught me what love is—the quiet warmth of her embrace, the lullabies whispered in twilight. Love, she said, is the sun peeking through storm clouds, painting rainbows across our hearts.But she didn’t stop there. She showed me the other side—the ugliness of war. Her eyes, once soft, hardened as she recounted tales of battles fought, lives lost. War, she said, is the tearing of souls, the shattering of dreams, the echo of distant cannons in sleepless nights.Yet, even in darkness, she found beauty. “Look,” she’d … Continue reading Lessons from a Mother’s Heart

Come gently, like sunlight through leaves—with warmth that lingers,with winds that whisper of change.May your days be stitched with courage,your nights with rest,and your heart with the quiet knowingthat growth often blooms in stillness.Welcome the unknown.You are ready. 🙏🏾❤️ ©️ Beatriz Esmer Continue reading Hello, July!

Between heartbeats, I exist—not as a fixed entity, but as a chameleon of being. I am the dew-kissed petal at dawn and the vast cosmos at night, the sun’s warm embrace and the thunder’s electric fury. I shift between solitude and the crowd, between the gentle breeze of spring and winter’s biting chill. In every form, I remain fluid, mutable, and unyielding. I am the keeper of memories and the wind beneath dreams. In quiet moments, I am the clasped hands and whispered promises; in defiance of odds, I weave bridges from stardust, connecting love and loss, hope and despair. … Continue reading Ancestry

Disseram-me os espíritos que me cuidasse. Uma preta velha, num terreiro, anos atrás.A luz que atravessou a janela do quarto, hoje pela manhã, trouxe de volta a preocupação.Cuidar-me — como?Poderia adoecer, perder-me no caminho, perder o amor da minha vida que nunca tive, ser despejada. A lista seria infindável, caso me pusesse a escrevê-la.O que gostariam que eu soubesse?Não creio que receberia uma notícia fatalista, sem chances de alterar minha rota de colisão com o que quer que fosse.De nada serviriam as previsões e os profetas, senão para angustiar-nos diante do inevitável. Deus seria um sádico a adiantar-nos capítulos inescapáveis.Ou … Continue reading Presságios

It’s often said that between two kindred souls, one can hear the music played by the other.But I would take it a step further—We are beings of energy, each vibrating with our own unique frequency.When two energies resonate, they don’t just hear each other’s song—they amplify it.In that harmony, the best within each is awakened,Illuminated and elevated,Creating a frequency not only heard,But felt—deeply, instinctively,As if the universe itself is humming in agreement. 🙏🏾❤ ©️ Beatriz Esmer Continue reading It is often

Carrego em mim um tempo que não passa, uma espera que não cessa, como se o relógio tivesse desaprendido a mover os ponteiros. Sou o intervalo entre o gesto e o arrependimento, entre o toque e a ausência. Não falo, não por medo, mas porque cada palavra seria um erro a mais no mapa já torto da minha memória. Sou o eco de um nome que ninguém mais chama, o vulto que atravessa a sala quando a luz se apaga. Sou o que resta quando o amor se retira — não a ausência dele, mas o espaço deformado por sua … Continue reading Relógio

(A dim light. A man stands center stage, arms slightly outstretched, as if holding invisible burdens. His voice is quiet at first, but steady.) Oh soul…You worry too much.Your arms—they ache not from emptiness,but from treasures you’ve mistaken for chains. I have carried myself in every thought,like a man dragging his own shadowthrough a desert of mirrors.Afraid to be seen.Afraid to be me.So I became half—half a man, half a truth,half a breath in a world that demands lungs full of fire. And still…I called it enough. What power must I summon to awaken whole?To rise not as a draft,but … Continue reading Monologue: “The Absurd Man’s Soliloquy”

You ever sit and wonder why? Why get up? Why try again?Why put your heart back into the same fire that burned you last time? Simple.You get up.You try again.You fail.But you never stop attempting. See, insanity—that’s a word made up by the less dedicated.A label slapped on persistence by those who gave up too soon.Headstrong—now that’s the word.That’s the anthem.It’s not stubbornness. It’s not pride.It’s self-willed progression.It’s knowing that every fall teaches you how to land softer, rise faster, aim sharper. Each attempt?It’s a lesson dressed in bruises.A whisper that says, “You’re closer than you were yesterday.” And that … Continue reading Monologue: “Why?”

(a spoken monologue) (Soft breath) There’s a certain kind of beauty in knowing a place…Each corner, each stretch of shadow at its favorite hour.You know it like home.Like the backs of your hands. A friendship that found you at ten—and stayed.As you stayed.That kind of knowing…is its own kind of love. And then—the roads. Highways humming at a hundred kilometers an hour,city signs blurred with speed and night,streetlights flickering like memories you don’t want to let go. And music—that song you heard at seven?It tastes different when you turn eighteen.Sweeter.Heavier. Your thoughts hush…Sleep finds you gently,and leaves honey on your … Continue reading Things That Were Beautiful Today (01/11/13)

In the silence of my heart, where language falters and reason fades, I discover a pure dialect of feeling—untamed by rules, yet rich in understanding. It is not the cleverness of words I speak, but the raw pulse of emotion that guides me. I listen not to what is said but to what trembles beneath the surface: the flicker in the eye, the hush between breaths. I confess, I am not learned, not scholarly. My truth is shaped by tenderness, not intellect; by intuition, not reason. Though motives may wear masks and truths hide behind shadows, I follow the trail … Continue reading The Language of Feeling