touching

weaving a pattern, on fabric
light to the touch
at first
coarse when felt

a warm coarseness
that strikes deep
into my heart
the gold shining

through my mind
reflecting my memories
absorbing my dreams
swallowed up inside

a hole opened up
around me
resting on a flower

red tinged pink
leaves soft yet
muddled green
wrapped around my

legs, cradled like a baby
fallen into the weave;
a picture painted bright
as a canvas

drawn by the
sun and moon in
ecstasy

– Via

The Discreet Use of the Senses

A rose given
In sunlight reflecting,
Patterns of light
Glimmering, birds
Flying fluttering
In gardens of ecstasy.

Sacred skin worshipped
Softly scented in trances
Of freedom, an
Eternity of sensations
Fulfilled in every
Moment with you.

Averting eyes
In blushing desires,
My body intrigued
In captured responses
And these passing thoughts
That I cannot resist.

A bond beyond a normal day
With a lush exchange of energy,
For when I heard your voice
Nothing else compared;
More than something in passing
You are absolutely beautiful.

 – Via

Love, Mallorca

Un somi mallorquí

Postcards are scattered about
In the dark
With nowhere to go.
I hear the waves
Of guitar strings and voices
Dancing me away
Into dreams of tomorrow.

The wind is silent
As I listen to the sea
Singing me a sweet lullaby
Under a canopy of
Figs and trees.
I linger on some thoughts
That sway, fading into nothing.

Flowers lead me down a path
Gently touched by savoury scents
Flowing on the evening breeze,
To where the stars kiss
The sand and the sea.
I fall into your arms and
I forget about everything else.
 
 
–  Via Estela

I listened

I heard something
but there was
nothing there—
noises in the distance.
I heard something
in the darkness,
then I was awoken
from a daydream
in a shattered haze
to hear her calling,
“I am me.”

I wanted to turn away,
but I was nearly there
out of the background
and into the day,
I had to reach that
farthest star, I fell.
I could hear her calling,
“Every lifetime I have is now.”

I wanted to turn away,
but I was living
beyond reason, beyond hope.
I listened to the passions
of the dragonfly,
to the sound of
my own thoughts.
I listened to an unknown
language
and I realized:
I could understand.

I wanted to turn away,
(but) I wanted to cry
I had salvation
and before I knew,
I could fly.
 
 
–  Via Estela