Traveling
We are of our place
so what happens
when we travel?
We grow — we learn —
we expand with
possibilities,
like a cloud
pregnant with rain —
Our new insights
swirl and hold
towards a new
release
Another birth —
another day —
this life is a
present and holy
gift
Let it storm.
Manaus
Homer's wine dark sea
has nothing on the
Rio Negro,
a luminous expanse
of glittering black,
deepening ripples
dotted with sea grasses,
criss-crossed by
speed boats
and the ferries full
of tourists, like me,
hoping to see
a pink dolphin,
an indigenous dance,
an opening among
the standard spaces
of life.
Author’s Note: A dear friend invited me to visit the Amazonas state in Brazil with her in the late summer of 2023. The only rainstorm we experienced was during the evening when I made the sketch above — a strange pattern since it usually rains almost every afternoon in the jungle. Since then, the region has entered catastrophic drought conditions. The glorious, life-sustaining Rio Negro is at its lowest level in 122 years. Meanwhile, parts of the United States are staring down and recovering from life-threatening deluges. The earth is out of balance. Let’s all strengthen our balance and see if we can turn this story around.