The Offering

I sat before you in the dark,

Bare, nameless, fearful and courageous;

That night I offered you my all,

Not knowing what might happen if you take it;


I sit before you in the dark,

Bare, nameless, fearless, ruined

I love you so, I cannot break

The deadly bond which links you to me;


I’ll sit before you in the dark,

Bare, loving, hopeless, lifeless

And reaffirm my every vow:

You heard my voice, you held my hand –

And took my all in your wild kindness

The Night Fires

Upon a bridge between two blazing fires

I stand and watch the heavy river flow;

One fire soars like hope into the open night skies,

The other one burns low, licking life off the earth;


I stand and know that I must pick a side;

I wish it was, but it is no longer my choice:

The fire ceremony, like the elements’ song, or the funeral pyre

The soulful prayer or the ultimate acknowledgment of loss…


Suspended halfway over running waters,

I will remind myself I’ve said my honest prayers,

And they were pleas for a path to freedom and to courage;

I see that path now: how and where it goes…


I took one step, so I will take another,

Walk all the way from twilight, and into the dark;

I fear, I fear it so intensely,

That on my fear I am becoming drunk;


And with each step my heart is beating faster,

And with each breath my being overflows with dread;

Closing my eyes I turn into a flame,

With ashes dancing;


I’m she, who dwells inside the fire,

She who shines more the more she burns

On Holiday

All the prayers have gone unanswered;
The gods, it seems,
Have gone on holiday,
Smoking Cuban cigars,
Betting galaxies and lives
As they laugh and play
Russian roulette
The world’s been left ungoverned;
The gods, they know
It’s too busy to rebel,
Selling and buying souls,
Some dirt-cheap, and others so
High-priced that even the gods
Must bargain for them
All the dead’ve been left unburied,
And those who have survived
Have lost their minds;
There was no one to pray
To, and nobody to blame,
No role model to abide
By the rules of the game
The world has all but ended;
Because the gods have gone
On holiday

El Ritmo del Camino

Y todos los días – rezar:

Rezar con el cuerpo entero,

Rezar, caminando para atrás,

Hacia donde yo era Cualquiera


Y todas las tardes  – contar:

Contar con el reloj cansado

Los minutos que quieren saltar

Y huir de la noche pesada


Y todas las noches – llorar:

Llorar de dolor y de dudas;

En espejos de oscuridad

Se reflejan mis caras de Judas


Y cada mañana – lavar,

Lavar este rostro de polvo

Secarlo a la luz del sol

Y seguir hacia la Praza do Obradoiro

The Church and the River

On the Neva’s wide banks in Your home, made of rocks

I stand quietly, breathing and staring

At Your icons which I try to pray to, but can’t:

My heart falters in doubt and I barely


Even manage to keep my hands close to the flames

Of the candles of hopes, crying, melting,

Changing sizes and shapes, burning down to the base –

So much like me that it seems unsettling


I stand like this all day, looking straight in Your eyes –

They’re alive with the flames’ golden flicker;

‘Where’s my candle today? Where’s the light of my life?’

I keep asking, my knees getting weaker


I will leave You at night: with the river I’ll walk

To the sea and dive into its copper

Waters smelling of cold, waters swarming with rocks:

I will whisper my prayers to Your waters