Tag: poet

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Reflections on Pain, Love, and Resilience

beatrizesmer

I will write about the pain. I will speak about my wars. Every day isn’t about planting seeds, watering my roots, and waiting for the season when the flowers in my backyard will grow. Some seasons come with battles but remembering that the Universe has already won it all brings relief to my bones. Just like pain, there is joy. There is peace and love attached to my name. Beatriz. Maria. Júlia. Nathália. Isabel. Cristina. Lina. Janete. My name is kindness. I am a lover. I am light. I am the Daughter of stars, so are you! In the quiet … Continue reading Reflections on Pain, Love, and Resilience

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Cleansing the Soul

beatrizesmer

Amidst the quietude of a sun-dappled morning, I embarked on a peculiar ritual—a cleansing of the intangible. Armed with metaphorical soap and water, I stood at the threshold of my mind, ready to scrub away the residue of yesteryears. First, the dreams. Those fragile, ephemeral things that once clung to my consciousness like morning dew on petals. I lathered them in suds, watching as they dissolved, swirling down the drain. Plans, too—they slipped through my fingers, leaving only a faint scent of possibility. Next, memories. Some were like old photographs, sepia-toned and faded, while others were vivid and sharp, capable … Continue reading Cleansing the Soul

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Threads of Resilience

beatrizesmer

There are women who have walked against the wind, their steps etching defiance into the fabric of time. Their footprints, invisible yet indelible, trace a lifetime of courage—a dance with gales that threaten to unravel them. Their eyes—oh, those eyes—are like uncharted oceans. Deep, mysterious, holding secrets whispered by ancient tides. Within their irises lie shipwrecks of lost dreams and sunken hopes, yet they shimmer with the promise of undiscovered lands. And love? Ah, love transforms them. Some change their skin, shedding old layers like autumn leaves, hoping to fit into the contours of another’s heart. But love can be … Continue reading Threads of Resilience

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Longing and Love

beatrizesmer

And if I loved you one day, small and calm, tiny and light, like the wind that has forgotten its path, wandering through alleys, getting lost in curves, spreading into the river, would your fingers discover my hair, would your hands find my legs beneath my dress, would your voice resist the noise of the trees? And if I loved you one day, tall and wide, big and bigger, close to the sky, on a wing, against the sun, loose and free in the silent flight of a bird, would your eyes join mine on an unlikely horizon, would your … Continue reading Longing and Love

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August something, 2012.

beatrizesmer

A date that seems to float in the ether, untethered by specifics, yet heavy with meaning. Tonight, you are called to return to yourself, to that pure essence that once existed free from the imprints of others. Imagine a time when you were a child, or perhaps lost in a dream. In those fleeting moments, you were unburdened by the world’s expectations. You knew that having what you wanted felt good and made your life better. There were no issues of worthiness, deserving, or doubt. There was just peace and contentment. Babies are born knowing to seek comfort, love, connection, … Continue reading August something, 2012.

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The Unveiled Grace of Maria

beatrizesmer

How does one connect with the invisible women of Brazil, distant from the world of bootees? She prayed out of despair; her mother loved to pray, she loved to swim. She had a habit of telling others to take a bath. She thought that by washing the outside, she could also cleanse the inside. One day she discovered that to cleanse the soul, she needed more than water and soap. Maria did not believe in naive kindness. She was suspicious of the feminine calvary, a place instituted by her mother: A woman must accept the cross, mortify herself, surrender to … Continue reading The Unveiled Grace of Maria

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Spring’s Renewal

beatrizesmer

“Yes, I deserve a spring–I owe nobody nothing.” I have walked through the harsh winters of doubt and the stormy nights of self-reproach, but now, as the first light of spring kisses the earth, I realize that I am worthy of this rebirth. I have shed the weight of expectations that were never mine to bear, and I have untangled myself from the webs of obligations that sought to bind me. The journey to this moment has been long and arduous, but with each step, I have grown stronger, more resilient. I have learned to listen to the whispers of … Continue reading Spring’s Renewal

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The Unyielding Presence of Pain

beatrizesmer

Pain, a relentless actress, takes center stage in the theater of life. She dons many masks, each more haunting than the last. She is the tight smile that conceals a storm, the hunched heart burdened by invisible weights, the knot that twists and turns within our chests. Her presence is undeniable, her grip unyielding. Yet, pain is not merely an antagonist. She is a force that rusts and ages, disarming us with her raw power. She leaves an indelible mark, impressing upon us the depths of our own vulnerability. But in her wake, she also brings recovery and relief. She … Continue reading The Unyielding Presence of Pain

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Memoire Oubliée

beatrizesmer

Tes yeux sont si profonds que j’y perds la mémoire. Your eyes—their irises like twin galaxies—hold secrets older than constellations. They are wellsprings of forgotten tales, where the past and present entwine, and the future hesitates, unsure of its own script. I imagine tracing the contours of your gaze—the delicate arch of your brow, the crescent moons etched beneath your lashes. Each blink, a shutter capturing fragments of existence: stolen kisses, whispered promises, the scent of rain on cobblestone streets. And within those depths, memory unravels like a vintage tapestry. Perhaps it was a moonlit soirée, where laughter swirled like … Continue reading Memoire Oubliée

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The Eternal Dance of Awakening

beatrizesmer

In the distant future, where time dissolves into dreams and reality intertwines with fantasy, I find myself awakening. I wake to the gentle sound of the wind whispering ancient secrets, or perhaps it’s the sunlight, softly caressing my skin, bringing me back to the world of the living. Each awakening is a dance between forgetting and remembering, a game of hide and seek with the truth. Sometimes, the truth is a shy visitor, revealing itself slowly, in fragments of memories and glimpses of past lives. Other times, it is an overwhelming storm, dragging us out of the comfort of sleep, … Continue reading The Eternal Dance of Awakening