Tiny little things

Tiny little things:

cells,

seeds

dew droplets

warm tears

Within the cytoplasmic membrane

the enigmatic code

the mathmatical sequence

Exact

Of things that are

and things yet to be

Tiny little things

the newborn’s hand

delicate flower blossoming in life

toothless smiles

the stripes on fuzzy bees

Tiny little things

tenderness, finesses

warm delights

of so much love

minutely structured

within the crimson fibers

of the pulsing heart

Tiny little things:

the stars,

little dots in the endless sky

so far,

but so brilliant

inside me

Fabiana Avila

A Firefly in Columbia Heights

A firefly!

Mom why?

Why do they flash lights?

At the sound of bumble bees

Wheezing buses

Aroma of roses

Why mommy?

Why trash on the ground?

The squirrel with a naked tail 

Chase the brown one

Over an occasional nut

Mommy that man needs a bath

Shhhhh

But mommy, he is so dirty

What’s that smell?

Trash, honey

We need to wash it mommy

She starts to sing

“- Let it go, let it go”

little hands like tiny magic wands

creating a new world

 Firefighters fly by

With screaming sirens
Gunshots echoes from Columbia Road

That’s too much noise on my ears mommy!

Smile

She seriously stands her right hand up:

- See the red hand? We must stop at the raised hand

Glimpses of wisdom

I suddenly understand

Beyond science

Why do fireflies flash their light

in Columbia Heights

Will this children's light ever shine?

by Fabiana Avila

Sistere (to stand still)

That brief moment

Our paths reach

Either our highest

Or lowest

Where do we start from?

Where are we going to?

Where in heavens will be traced

The Segment

Of our brief fragments?

Yet, when we begin

What before?

What era?

Ever?

Today reaches

The solstice of a soul

The world sees immobility

Appearance

A rock

But the course is changing

a new season rises

As this long wait ends

a new sitting begin

new drops form

for the next rain

new life sprout

to die and give life

again and again

silently

as the mountain moves

beneath our feet

by Fabiana  Avila

Hollow

It’s dark, and I walk alone

blinding lids of long shut eyes

I breath no longer

and the ground is lonely

Deaf has silenced my being

no howls, no cries

I hear no more

No words of good bye

Still this road

this ever so long road

to be under, to walk

climbing the stones of solitude

in this ebony silent night

The blood dries within my heart

as the last glimpses of consciousness

are pitch painted in the chambers of Lethe

Yet, from within the universe

This mighty propulsion:

Forward!

Steps, skips, falls

rivers of cold waters, I feel no more

The road is dark

and I stand alone

The man from Apolo 15

In 1985, as he publishes

Entering Space: An Astronaut’s Odyssey

I entered kindergarten on my literary voyage

In another world, Votuporanga

He is Allen IV,

I, just the middle child

He entered as salt and pepper sprinkles

on our Friday lunch

At the heat of our discussion

about the ugly faucets

our darling husbands

decided to choose

with the plumber’s guidance...

Here, back on Earth,

As he entered retirement in 2004

from his exits to the moon

I was leaving my Earth

(besides being called a loon)

As life’s shuttle orbited

Around years in and out

As I entered the galaxy of marriage

the constellation of motherhood

the nebula of my accomplishments

our paths cross:

He enters the room

with a gaze of one

who’s seen the moon

With a cane, and a NASA pin

on the navy blue lapel

Still in pilot mode

strategic stops

and plenty nerdy jokes

I tell him skeptical

Are you sure you are an astronaut?

You should have been a comedian

He smiles and tell

yet another one about the burned church.

Holly smokes, I just met Joseph P. Allen IV! 

Washington, DC, Salt and Pepper Restaurant, lunch time with Etna Cantora and Andrea

My visit to you

Hi dear friend

darling of mine

sister of my heart

I visit you in thoughts

in prayers

in tears

but overall, thinking of you

I visit you in smiles

I come alone,

but in my soul

this building of past

present, tomorrow

this castle of sand

of diamonds

guarded by courage,

threatened by fears

I bring the world, the ones far and near

I come to see you

sweet window

to be surrounded by your caring light

to hear the wisdom of your music

I bring you flowers

petals of poetry

from life’s garden

fresh, organic

raw blades of green hope

I bring you a chair

not to seat, but to dance around

Put your dancing shoes,

Dance Aviva,

I came to visit, because when I do

who visits me is you!

To my friend Zahara Heckscher

The unexpected stop

The train is on time

on tracks, on days

up nights

Friction, sparks

little starlight

on the horizontal ladder

connections

from here to there

To where?

On the cold ticket

printed defined destinations

Liar

Deranged train

Grabbing the tracks

tricking hearts

with the warmth you produce

but your essence is cold metal

lethal

Captive in your sits

the passengers

glued stiffs

smiles,

sniffs

so many ifs…

Cringe your silver teeth

moving skiff

Let me out

Set me free

Stop rushing me there

Open Sesame!

Untied hair

The golden treasure:

just dust

a day

thin air

from within the fountain

new words

as poetry pours

from every pore

in flair gush

and no more