The Day I Left the Cabin

“There was the hum of bees, and the musky odor of pinks filled the air. -The Awakening, Kate Chopin

There was the hum of bees, and the musky odor of pinks filled the air.
The birds, wilting from the record-breaking heat splashed in the baths,
disappointed that the water wasn’t cooler.
A yellow slime crept atop the old tree stump to make itself known.
The full moon was setting on the west horizon.
I read somewhere that it was the last super moon of the year.
I heard somewhere that this would bring about good changes.
I hoped that was true and went about my chores–
moving through heat that felt like a physical resistance.
I tasted salt as the sweat dripped from my brow.
I chased it with iced tea, crushing the ice with my teeth for emphasis.
I didn’t feel ready to say goodbye to this place I had called home
for the last year and a half–the time of COVID
–my first time living alone in my 56 years.
I will miss this.
But the way is forward.
Toward pink-sky sunsets
and new beginnings.
And the bees will keep humming
even after I am gone.

Holding My Breath

When I was young
hopes rose unbound
but experience cautioned
like a caring abuela
don’t hold your breath.

A few more years of living,
and many disappointments later,
hope approached more timidly.
Experience shouted back
like a protective sibling
DON’T HOLD YOUR BREATH

Perhaps I am a slow learner.
The hope in me persists
despite all evidence
that it shouldn’t
And the warning is now the whisper of a caring friend:
don’t hold your breath. 

I recognize good advice when I hear it.
I recognize love when I feel it.
I recognize realities and choose to accept or change them.
I now let hope rise and the voice within me says

just breathe. 

The Joy of Unseen Things

I’ve heard it said that love
is the nearest proof we have
that there is a God.

When I am far from you
and can’t rest my eyes
on the glory of your face
I am still filled with peace and joy
knowing you are there.

When my arms long to gather you close,
even though you are far,
I comfort them with stories of the moon –
her power and pull,

whether seen or unseen.

A Reluctant Goodbye

A reluctant goodbye
hung in the space between us:

a held breath
an undelivered kiss
a question with no answer
the trembling recognition of grace

and hands that want to hold on
—even as they’re letting go.

—Cynthia Hernandez, 2021

Third Time’s a Charm

Greetings fellow poets! I’m so excited to participate in my 3rd poetry marathon this year! The third time is the charm for me because I also have the privilege of editing the anthology this year! I can’t wait to get writing and reading! I am planning a solo getaway to a special spot – with good wi-fi, comfortable seating and napping spaces and plenty of snacks and beverages. I like to beautify the space with flowers and scents. I try to hit the hay early the night before, be meditate a while after a morning walk. See you all along the way!

The Greatest Gift

The greatest gift
I’ve ever received

was the day that we learned
our son Gabe was conceived.

Such incredible wonder
on the day he was born–

such a sweet happiness
when we brought
our son home.

Each day was a gift
and such a deep joy.

The greatest gift of my life
is my sweet, darling boy.

 

 

 

 

 

No Place Like Home

There’s no place like home
of that much I’m certain
I’m not trying to make sense
of who’s behind the curtain.

I’m not looking for courage,
or a brain or a heart.
I’ve got all that I need
and I’m ready to start.

So down the yellow brick road I go.
When I click my heels thrice,
I’ll be back home.

 

 

 

Sheltering Wings

A single white feather
lets me know you are near.

I’ve asked you for signs,
but they weren’t always clear.

This is a sign
that can comfort the doubtful.

You have sheltering wings
and for this I’m so grateful.

 

Longing

I long to find ease.

I long to find rest.

I long for a lover who’s up to the test.

I long for a morning with nothing to do.

I long for world wellness

and for world peace too!