Desire

I want to show her the world. See the glitter in her eyes resembling the moment when the light touches the surface of the water as the sun turns to sleep.

I want to witness the explosion of emotions pumping the red fluid to her growing heart, like the rapid pace of a herd of gazelles through an open field.

Mother and daughter by Natalia TejeraI want to be the guardian…, No! The chest where she puts away for safe keeping her moments of splendor which she explores, holding my mature and loving hand, the beautiful treasures that are yet to be discovered by two adventurers and young hearts.

I want to be the companion whom shows her the serene feeling of an evergreen valley, that flourishes and stretches endlessly admired through an ancient window of a Tuscan villa.

I want to be in awe as she wonders the once filled gray stone corridors of a historical castle. Show her the simplicity of life as it goes by enjoying itself, while one rests sitting comfortably, book in hand, coffee waiting patiently on the table, at a café.

That’s the moment I want, the others are just the fulfillment of the goals that came to be when her life was shown the light of day and the obscure sparkling night.

Closed eyes, a breath of fresh air, a smile. Is where life, wisdom, love, pure love, shines through her angelic and alabaster face, as she discovers what it means to be awake in a life that was meant to be even before she was conceived.

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Alexandra Román de Hernández es la autora de El valle de la inspiración y La dama de Israel: La historia de Judith. Trabaja en estos momentos en su segunda novela de ficción.

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A reflection of a wordsmith

It was a place of astonishing beauty.  A calm breeze surrounded me, bestowing peace to my soul.  I sat down in front of an altar of stone surrounded by an arch of climbing roses. Breathing in the atmosphere of serenity that flourished from that place, I heard a voice calling my name, whispering questions. 

What do I want?  What am I willing to sacrifice?  I do not know, I answered.  Am I willing to sacrifice something I love, to have something in return?  Am I that strong?

I don’t know, I whispered. I reflected upon those questions and realized I gave a lot to have this moment, to be where I am right now. I gave up dreams, loving dreams.  In return, I sometimes complain for those dreams I’ve lost and cannot get back.  I have been given the opportunity most of my kin dream of!  To stay home and write as long as I want to for I’m a wordsmith. Still a tear is shed for those dreams I loved so and let go. 

Now in this very moment I see that the sacrifice of those dreams was not in vain. For they have given me time, what better gift than that!  Time for creativity, for writing, for love… I’ve been given the greatest gift of all.  What do I do with it know?  Embrace it.  Take it by the hand and walk the path of future stories, of endless magic.  To run with it were ever I go, to explore the sky above, the earth beneath, the worlds within.  To live!  That’s what I’m going to do with the time given to me, live!!!

Live to create, live to give and love, live to cry and laugh, live to be a demigod in my world of storytelling.  I want to live within them.

And for that, I’ll smile every time I remember the lost dreams. For they’re not lost, they were given willingly as a sacrifice to whom gave me so much.  So I, once again, leave those dreams on His altar.  I make a prayer of thanks, of gratitude for all the blessings and the time He has given in return.

“Sacrifices are not done in vain, for they are the mare gift for something greater than themselves” -said a gentle voice.

I smiled and found peace at last.  I stood up proud and confident once more, kissed the altar and left.  Leaving behind an old person and emerging a new one with a brighter soul.

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Black Shadow, a poem

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No body, no face, nor tears;

only a distant moaning in the desert.

Muted words lost in the sandy winds.

Prison robe, eternal damnation.

Hands scratch it, no marks.

Through minuscule holes, curious

black eyes gaze upon the male scenery.

Living dead cloaked in shadow.

Thinks, believes, hopes,

                                            and dreams of a distant horizon

that will deliver them to the light.