Air smells heavy with dew,
The grass looks like it was
Painted with green crayons.
Bright and full of life.
The breeze whispers in my ears.
Ahhhh! The lullaby of spring.
I breathe it and hum along,
Close my eyes while the sun
Greets me from the east.
And for an instant I walk without thinking,
Walk and let the souls of my feet guide me.
I find myself in the belly button of the world
Delivering news in poetic rhyme format
Languages dormant in me
That only come out when inner peace
Is reached, no matter how brief.
I write for these moments.
Where metaphors speak in quipus
And similes just smile.
The smell of exhaust wakes me.
I remind myself not to step on the worms
walking on the street,
But greet them
As they ready la pachama for harvesting.
On this sping morning.
I breathe on the way to bus stop.