Posted in Memory of my late beloved on my day of birth.
My heart thumps loudly in my chest as I ready to post this poem written a time ago as a capsule of our trip.
Even though, I feel fire inside, at my essence, I am pure water.
Isla Mujeres (Island of Women)
Our first trip
to the pristine ocean;
the turquoise pools
of the Caribbean sea.
beneath the shell of
A twenty minute jaunt
transported from the twirl of Cancun.
We sail across clear waves,
absorbed by the reflection of
the sun, soothing invigoration--
in your eyes too.
Time slows, unblurs
to a quaint island.
Little stores, restaurants,
together along the main,
left and right
strung into colorful spring
We explore the island passageways,
past narrow streets.
display hand-made goods:
brightly painted paper mache masks,
A cheerful array of colors
behind humble eyes.
Winding back to the main,
The fisherman unload
fresh caught fish from their boats,
invite a pause to our day.
Dinner by the sea. Seated
outside, under a grass like hut,
we wait at make-shift tables,
candles lit; aroma of sizzling fish
fills the air, salty and fresh.
A mariachi trio
sings and strums in
As I listen, I think of my ancestors;
I look across at you, our eyes meet,
you place your hand on mine, the breeze
sways my hair, sky begins to change its mood
Looking out across the dark ocean,
my mind glides
across shimmering waves;