The woman who gave birth to the ocean

This is the story of the woman who gave birth to the Ocean.
This is the story of a river of tears.
This is the story of love and commotion.
This is the story of shedding our fears.

These are the ancients who laughingly love us.
These are the tales that we tell to survive.
These are the glories that live here among us.
These are the wishes that keep us alive.

When you're not with me, do you feel lonely?
When I'm alone I am no less in love.
When you're away, my heart sings "if only".
Please come on home, my sweet turtle dove.

How are the questions the things that can taunt us?
How are the cold stars aligned in the sky?
How often words still unspoken can haunt us!
How many times can a soul ask "but, why?"

You know that I'm here: complete, warm and waiting.
You know that in truth I sing "YES" to your heart!
You know that I love you without hesitating.
I hope you know nothing can break us apart.

Trust is a choice that we make with each moment.
Trust is a double edged sword when used ill.
Trust is a thing that we rarely give freely.
I trust you with all of my Self; always will.

I know what real love is because you have shown me.
I know who I am. I am fierce, strong, and true.
I know that I also am small, scared and weary.
Life's complicated. It seems I am too.

Love is a gift, one that's given quite freely.
Love is a strength and a gift and a boon.
Love has more faces than a dodecahedron.
Love, so discordant yet so finely tuned.

So many facets to ponder each morning.
So many parts of one's self to unfold.
So much forgiveness and so many warnings
So much to learn. Here's to lessons untold.

Finding this love at my age is a blessing.
Finding my way as a mother is too.
Finding myself is an ongoing lesson.
Finding forgiveness for self? Trying to.

She is enchanting -- my strong, vibrant Daughter
She is the power and strength the world needs
She is a whirlwind, a true Force of Nature
She is the ocean.... a wave at full speed.

I am Alive like the woman who bore me.
I am so Blessed by the child I bore.
I know the world in a different way now
That I've birthed a whole ocean and walked on it's shore.

This is the story of the woman who gave birth to the Ocean.
This is the story of a river of tears.
This is the story of love and commotion.
This is the story of sharing our fears.

(c) Tanya Anguita
2019

Mermaid

In the Sea of Life,
there are those that fight the waves,
And those
that the waters
recognize
as their own.

Mermaid --

Singer of magic,
Weaver of dreams,
Font of laughter,
Community builder,
Kindness bringer,
Bastion of strength,
And speaker of truths --

YOU ,
Loved by so many,
glide and dance
With remarkable power,
Over the rippling water's edge,
And straight into
The loving arms of Poseidon.

He's been waiting for you,
You know,
With love in his heart.

And now
The Waves
caress your Beloved face,
welcoming you Home
After seeming eons
of waiting
For your
Sweet Return.

©Tanya Anguita

She....

She is my heart
In a small warm body
Separate (and not)
From mine....

She is my best
Every thing...
My breath,
My soul,
My largest of the small.

She is a huge being
In a tiny package,
A mirror to
My harshest truths

She is the sun
Bright and powerful
To my waxing
And waning moon.

She is my dearest
My toughest,
My most beloved,
My teacher,
And my student.

She is my laughter,
My tears,
My hopes,
My fears,
She is Love,

She is Magic,

She is my Child.

And I am blessed to be her Mother.

©Tanya Anguita

Because she hums it....

The Moon hums
whisper-soft
through my sleepy window,
singing sweet songs
and glorious.

Her quiet breath
dances across my pillow
and into my drowsy ear,
reminding me that
Summer
isn't long for this world,
that nothing is permanent,
and that
I'd best
be appreciating
exactly what I've got.

Her lullaby
rocks me to consciousness,
out of nightmares,
away from difficult thoughts
that come unbidden in the close darkness;
banishing fears that I did not beckon.

Her voice is soothing.

Filled with light and love,
it touches my fevered hurts
like a cool compress
in the oft-lonely night.

I love Her
and
I am loved by Her
and
for this moment,
all is right
with the Moon-wealthy world.

"Good night,"
She hums.

And because She hums it,
it is.

© Tanya Anguita

Coming Back

i am coming back to myself
after what feels like
too many years
at the front of a war
i did not choose.

celebrating my homecoming
with loved ones,
over shared bread and laughter;

wine and roses
a feast for the senses
after fasting for far too long.

=====================

I am coming back to myself
after what feels like
too many months
of a solitary confinement
i did not deserve.

weeping with relief and gratitude
at the gift of clean air
and cool light on my skin

the sight of beloved faces
a not-so-small kindness that
enfolds me in its comfort
after tireless touch-hungry days
in the darkness.

=====================

i am coming back to myself
after what feels like
too many nights
lost in the wilderness
with no map to guide me.

enjoying again
the gently sloping landscape
of my confidence;

small mountain flowers
tucked gracefully
into cracks in the granite.

=====================

i am coming back to myself;
to the wild leanings
of my soul

frolicking
with the mountain goats in my fertile heart;
swimming
in the newly-thawed lakes of awakening,

the wind in my spirit
whistles a jaunty tune
as it dances through the alpine trees
that sway too and fro by dawn's light.

=====================

i am coming back to myself;
to the contented me
that i wear like a well-worn sundress

easy and soft to the touch,
smelling like Summer and satisfaction,
i accept myself,
with all of my faults and glories,
exactly as i am.
right now.
today.

=====================

i am coming back to myself
to the beloved me
that is like an open kitchen window
on baking day,

enticement in the form of
warm pie and completeness

sending the sweet scent of
abundance and welcome
wafting over the meadows nearby.

=====================

i am coming back to myself.
seeing
sunlight in the shadows,
windows in the architecture,
light where light hasn't shone for a long time.

=====================

i am coming back to myself
finding
empathy in every exchange
and love in every corner.

wakening,
from van-winkle-like sleep,
to the sensuality
that i feared dead.

embracing desire.

wanting again
in the still of the night.

=====================


i am coming back to myself
appreciating my strength
applauding my talents
accepting compliments
thankful
for everyone and everything.

=====================

i am coming back to myself

with gentleness as a mantle
with humor as my flashlight
with a truth i thought i had forgotten
with compassion overflowing my outstretched hands.

=====================

i am coming back to myself
with patience as my guide
with willingness my lodestone
with knowledge of my value
with grace;
owning my beauty

=====================

i am coming back to myself
with confidence
with integrity
with respect
with belief.

i am coming back to myself.
with love.

© Tanya Anguita.

A Ship Called Memory

cast adrift
on a turbulent sea of thought

gasping for air
as waves of emotion
CRASH
over the bow
of this ship
called Memory.

it is a dark and stormy night
on this ocean of recollection,
and i am,
once again,
lost in a squall
of reminiscence and regret;
falling overboard into the sea of sorrows;
drowning in the now-ancient ghosts
of loves ruinous and unrequited.

shall i

swim for the shore,
or let the raging waters
pull me under?

fight the seductive current,
or go, like a brave sailor,
to my fate?

if i

relinquish choice,
i will breath in the salty ache
that will lead me to my destruction

if i

release free will,
the cold words
that dragged me down
towards my not-so-swift demise
will rise up again to consume me

if i

accept as mine
the actions of another,
that left my ego bleeding
alongside the rocky shore of my now-torn sensuality,
i will never recover from them.

instead,
in the
all-encompassing ocean
of hurts unshared,

i pray...

for silence
for salvation

listening, listening,
as i drown in remembrance,
for the siren song
of the words i
most wished
to hear
all those pain-filled months ago.

there is a weighty silence
in answer to my prayer
as i sink
sink
sink
into the anguish
that comes from the past
yet seems to be
all around me.

i flail,
reaching out

for my equilibrium,
for my faith,
for the return of a
world turned upright again.

despair
-- dark and winsome --
winds itself seductively around my heart,
as resignation attempts to attach itself
to my fight-weary psyche.

my lungs,
filled with the stale air
of unsaid truths,
threaten to burst.

i hit bottom.

there is no light.

all is silent.

in the waiting stillness,
a small clear voice
sings truth;
weaving a safety net
with the sureness of its
gentle veracity.

"true love," it hums

"will not weigh you down,
or cut your soul to ribbons."

"true love," it croons,

"love that is
healthy, honest, and open,
is no anchor.
it would never drag you with it
into the deep!"

"true love," it reminds me,

"love that sustains, supports, communicates,
and is given freely,
is buoyant and beautiful!"

"true love" it sings with clarity,
"is a lifeboat,
waiting to take you on board."

reveling in that verity,
i kick against the hurt,
fight the sorrows,
refuse the plate of bitterness
in the overwhelming darkness
at the bottom of this muddied ocean.

Up, up, up
I swim,
towards truth and confidence,
towards honesty and kindness,
past the snaggle-toothed sea-monsters
named fear and doubt,
past the bleeding creatures from the deep
named insecurity-bred-of-cruelty and defeat.

Gasping,
I break the surface of my tattered ego
to breathe once again
the soothing air
of strength,
of beauty,
of grace,
of Self.

Praising
the sky,
the cool wind
in my sun-warmed hair,
and the lifeboat
that i now carry with me always
in my gentle, gracious heart.

© Tanya Anguita

tattered

you have abandoned me
without a word

your silence is a scream of disdain--
disrespectful;
a cruel coldness
on a winter night

godspeed wherever you are.
i wish you comfort

my heart strains to hear yours
over the rift in my soul,
waiting like a deaf hound
for the command that will never come

godspeed wherever you are.
i wish you joy.

my comprehension of your actions,
like the coat of a newly-shot dead man,
is tattered,
full of holes.

my hurts coagulate around each
open wound where the
smoking pistol of your unkindness
dug into my tender heart
right before you pulled the trigger.

godspeed wherever you are.
i wish you contentment.

i used to think you kind and beautiful;
incapable of intentional meanness,
gentle in your entirety,
and good

now i see i was mistaken

you are, instead,
gifted in the art of passive heartlessness,
a bard well-versed in the song of the damning,
who has left me
haunted,
removed,
sorrowful,
alone,
damaged and done.

godspeed wherever you are.
i wish you love.

© Tanya Anguita

under a full moon sky

under a full moon sky

silver starred night
a moon bright with promise
a bowlful of laughter
and you

she'll be full soon --
burgeoning with possibility,
and weaving secret stories
of maidens and madmen
stolen kisses
and silent wishes.

we cannot go wrong,
you and i,
when there is this gift
in the skies
guiding us to true discourse
and each other

lean back.
howl bright
at the Spring moon
so rich and fecund
in the vernal sky.

she'll have you thinking
there is magic at midnight
as we draw down the moon,
blanket ourselves in her radiance,
and wrap each other
in the fervent fascination
that comes with chemistry
and minds that meet and match.

I would not trade
these months
for anything,
nor that first conversation
under an
Autumn full moon sky.

© Tanya Anguita

© Tanya Anguita (04/03/10)

Tanya's Moon Trio

I.

Cloud cloaked
she sits
in the cold night sky,
wisps of cumulus wrapped
around her glowing face.
She is
star adorned
star adored
and glorious.
Breathtaking in her
waning.
Beautiful
in her slow fade.
Age suits her
and she is
magnificence incarnate.

II.

"Describe the moon"
she said to him
"Describe the moon for me!"
She asked it neat
and asked it sweet
as they stood by the sea.

So he set out to
one moonlit night
to act on her behest
and found himself at quite a loss
to fulfill her request.

He spoke it and he wrote it.
He danced it with the dawn.
He sang it and he acted it
His movements lingered on.
He shouted from the mountaintops
He painted it in beauty
He raged it to the breaking waves
And worked on it with duty.
He swayed with it, he swore with it
All in a reverent voice
He ached for it, he burned for it
He daily made a choice.

He honoured her great beauty
Paid homage to her light.
He howled to her deliciousness,
Was humbled by her might.
He laughed with her graciousness
And languished in her glory.
He canted every chant he knew -
Cajoled another story.

His actions, they were tried and true
His words magnificent and new
His paintings pure, his songs were searing
His dances divine and endearing.
He walked his talk and talked his verity
His spirit strong, defined sincerity.

As they walked on in later years
Along that self-same sea
While looking at her lovingly
He offered her this plea

“I still want to describe the moon,
Describe the moon for you!
But trying to describe the moon,
A mortal cannot do.

Trying to describe the moon --
A thing beyond compare --
Is quite like plucking birdsong
Out of the morning air.”

She tiptoed then and kissed him
And whispered in his ear
And there beneath the waning moon
Everything was clear.

She smiled at him and held him close
And held him to her breast
“Describe my kiss” she smiled at him
“And just forget the rest…”


III.

There was a young pianist named June
Who passionately loved the moon
Whether waxing or waning
She felt she was reigning
Supreme when she played “Clare de Lune”

©Tanya Anguita