Category: Family Life

THE CONFLICT

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Frailty is a funny thing. It talked her into a compromising situation. When she was strong she would proclaim “ I will never do that! “ . In her  might she could scale a wall bare footed and topple several giants with her hand tied behind her back. She seemed invincible.

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Now things are different. Battles have scarred her and she feels herself wavering. What was once firm ground now has turned into sinking sand. She said she would never stumble in matters of her heart and she did just that because weakness is peculiar. Her flaws continually beg for her attention. She looks in the mirror and where once stood a Jedi, now all she gazes at are the accusatory fingers that point to her and blame her for things that aren’t even her doing. That was her undoing back then and she wonders if it’ll contribute to her demise now.

She heard those voices back then and that’s how she lost her way. They drowned out her own voice and she followed the wrong ones, betraying herself. Now the image in the mirror begs her not to do it again. She is fragile and is succumbing more and more each day to what is comfortable because she has grown tired of the battles.

The conflict is in her soul and she knows there is a way out but she finds herself enjoying the darkness more than she thought possible. Being in the light this whole time has exhausted her. She finds opacity comforting, it’s where she can hide away, not having to worry so much about anything. The darkness beckons her daily; it is where light hasn’t reached yet. Those places longing for light’s exposure is where she treads lately. What she doesn’t realize is that as she visits those places, they are no longer in the dark because by illumination, they become won over territory.

Her darkness sees the light and it comprehends it not. It surrenders to the brilliance and that’s how she overcomes her weakness.

“It’s not by might nor power but by my Spirit,” says the Lord.

” Sin is basically the places of the heart where The Light hasn’t reached yet.” -Kim Clement

-EVA SANTIAGO ©2012/ ©2023

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ALMA’S STORM

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ALMA’S STORM

She thought the menacing clouds in the distant horizon could only mean one thing: Her certain destruction. She feared being obliterated in to oblivion. So Rosalma battened down the hatches of her sail boat and prepared for the worst. Oh she had seen it coming from afar for a while. Having been in control of her situations all of her life she always knew what to do. But there was something different with these dark clouds she kept seeing approaching closer everyday; esta tormenta es distinta, this storm is different, she told herself. She knew it was bigger than any rain storm she’d ever experienced before. Rosalma knew it, could feel it down to her core. But she decided not to run. She knew whatever came, even if she were to be stripped of her sails and tossed about in turbulent waters, she’d make it…at least she asked SOURCE every night for strength.

The day the deluge came started out in a strange calm. Rosalma looked out of her 2nd story bedroom window and she knew the light breeze and sun playing in the clouds above were lies. She had seen what was coming. Suddenly the day grew overcast and the thunder rolled. Her heart skipped a beat. Should she stay and weather the storm or go out to meet it face to face?

She gathered her long copper toned locks in a messy pony tail, threw on her fisherman’s sweater over her jeans and boots; grabbed her back pack and headed out to the marina. The clouds were building and the hues of grey changed constantly from grey to charcoal; reflecting her fears.  Undaunted, Rosalma ,  was going for it. She knew in the storm lay her destiny.

Vamomos Chica! GO girl, she encouraged herself. She found her sail boat; she’d christened her ALMA after her abuela, grandma who’d walked the earth for 98 years and taught Rosalma all about the storm. Rosalma headed out in Alma to find her soul’s purpose.

The water was choppy and the air now nippy. Rosalma tightened her raincoat a bit more snugly around her petite 5.2 frame. The water was merciless and kept over powering the deck. But, Rosalma kept on. She knew destiny’s end was ahead and staying where it’s safe would never get her there.

Soon enough the storm was beating Rosalma up and knocking her around, with  fists the size of the Hulk’s. Every time she thought it would let up, the struggle intensified. She desperately looked up for any sign of her tomentor letting up and the storm today seemed relentless. It wasn’t quitting and neither was Rosalma.
Mid storm Rosalma’s spirit was sinking. She thirsted and no drop of water could satiate it. Water everywhere and none of it could quench. Water everywhere and nothing to stop the stench of hell’s flames. She wept and couldn’t tell where her tears began or ended. Her eyes swollen from the storm’s continuous beatings, felt like she was blind. She wanted to just lay there and give up and admit defeat on Alma’s deck. Who would blame her for quitting? Obviously this storm no man woman or child could overcome. So the minutes slipped away and her soul with them.

Until a light came from a light house. It was far off but the light shining from it was undeniable. Rosalma shot up to her feet. She steadied herself by grabbing on to a side rail. All of the sails on Alma now torn to bits; which hung on like rags on a homeless person. Her soul knew how that felt.
She had seen the light ; though it was faint, she knew her destination to Port Désirée was just ahead. Through the rain storm came peace.

So what now? ALMA was not tossed about anymore. The storm’s rage was lessening and the wind no longer howled in distress. The light tower was in full view straight ahead. Rosalma shook a little inside. What lay ahead for her? She had left it all behind; brought absolutely no baggage on this journey. She wanted to travel light and get places faster. But now with all that was familiar to her gone, she knew not what she’d face next.

Through the rain storm came peace and Rosalma knew it was all well worth facing the storm that threatened to finish her off as it had done to so many of her ancestors. This new place was like a new addiction she could not deny. The light here seemed blinding only becase she had been in doom and gloom for so long. Rosalma was here to stay. This new place of color and no grey was where she would stay…

-Eva Santiago ©2012 ©2023

 

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HALF ALIVE AND HALF DEAD

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They  say you can’t miss what you’ve never had

Well I’m here to tell you that’s a big, fat, fucking lie

Today is my mother’s birthday

And I have missed her for my whole life

I don’t care ’bout your opinion

I don’t care  ’bout your thoughts

This is my heart, not yours and if I tell you I’ve missed my mother since the day she died-

Fuck you for making light of it

October 19th always comes and I feel a dreadful heaviness

I want to cry but the tears don’t come

I want to scream and I do silently from deep inside my soul, where no one on earth hears me

My silent screams ricochet into a fantastic echo, resonating into heaven’s outskirts

As I get older this doesn’t get better

They say time heals all wounds….well, what about this one?

Why hasn’t time taken away this sting?

Good God! Why oh why, must I feel like this?

I won’t fight how I feel or it will persist

I sit here embracing this void

I sit here embracing this old, cold pain in my heart

I sit here with a tight knot in my stomach

I sit here holding my breath…for what?

I have no idea

Souls that connect will miss each other even if the connection was brief

Oh how I miss you, Mama

I have traveled this galaxy in search of you

My tears are strewn about The Milky Way

I look up at the heavens always trying to somehow make my way back to you

I ask The Big Dipper to dip into the vast expanse of the deepest heavens…to transport you back to me

I talk to The North Star and I ask Him to never let you forget me… to never let you forget us

I talk to the moon and I ask her to light your path and to somehow keep a vigil for me

How ironic- that you keep a vigil for me and not I for you

But you see, life here in the now is tough as of late

And sometimes I go to sleep at night only to wake up feeling half alive and half dead

And I know where you currently reside has to be a place teeming with life

Because there’s got to be a place that is way better than here

There’s gotta be a time that is better than this hour

So say a prayer for those of us here, Mama dear

Say a prayer for those you left behind,Mama dear

Keep your light on for me because I so desperately wanna make it back to you

Go to that fountain

There, in the midst of that garden

Right at the foot of that sacred mountain

Look at your reflection in that ever clear, crystal pool

And I hope you see me there, waiting to catch a glimpse of you

I hope I see you there,waiting from this side of life, for you to reflect love back to me….

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2014

 

YOU HEARD MY SOUL

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You heard my soul
My breath
My heart beat
My energy

I heard your soul
You baby sweet breath
Your tiny heart beat
Your new energy

The universe conspired
To line up our stars
To make sure all the glitter fell in all the right places
To make sure the constellations would align

You are here not here by happenstance
For I don’t believe in luck
Nor do I believe in chance or mere coincidence

You are here by some grand design
Bigger than both of us
I used to not believe in magic
But now I do
Magic is another word, a feeble attempt
To describe the mysteries of the universe
UNIVERSE:
One Poem
One Lyric
One Sonnet
One Line
One Ode

The universe let love in with:
One poem
One Lyric
One Sonnet
One Line
One Ode

Without love none of US would be here.

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2014

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When in pain, I dig in the soil of my heart and I begin to sift through its debris. I begin to find shiny things , those I keep. I run across dull, opaque objects that I have to turn this way and that in order to grasp their full value. Sometimes those bits are just crap and I cast them aside. I don’t like to journal about the obvious things that are happening at the moment in my life. Why write about what I am currently living? It’s like watching the same movie for the 100th time and knowing how it’s going to end at minute two of the opening scene. I write when I am in pain because that is where I connect the most with myself.

LEAVING NORMAL

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What does it mean to bring a new life into this world?
It means:
To love more
To hate less
To care more
To put an and to carelessness
To say more with fewer words
To put your love into action
And talk less trash
To feel more and stop numbing yourself
To leave your comfort zone
Only to find your trusted comfort zone, was actually more uncomfortable than you thought
You were just too afraid to admit it
To see more and stop turning a blind eye to life
To listen more and stop tuning life out with the noise you choose to filter the world through
To hear with your heart’s ear drum and follow that beat no matter where it takes you
To put away all those things that keep you blind, numb, deaf and dumb….

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2014

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SOFT HEARTS/HARD HEARTS

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Soft hearts don’t shatter
Hard hearts do
Soft hearts bend
Hard hearts are rigid
Soft hearts feel
Hard hearts are numb
Soft hearts weep a deluge
Hard hearts are dry like the desert
Soft hearts grow
Hard hearts stagnate
Soft hearts are sweet
Hard hearts are bitter
Soft hearts understand
Hard hearts twist
Soft hearts lament
Hard hearts are remorse free
Soft hearts see
Hard hearts are blind
Soft hearts listen
Hard hearts are deaf
Soft hearts reach out
Hard hearts draw back
Soft hearts stay open
Hard hearts are shut tight
Soft hearts forgive
Hard hearts never turn the other cheek
Soft hearts are teachable
Hard hearts know it all
Soft hearts give life
Hard hearts kill and mame
Soft hearts are child like
Hard hearts are childish
Soft hearts are generous
Hard hearts keep it all for themselves
Soft hearts love
Hard hearts fear
Soft hearts encourage
Hard hearts discourage
Soft hearts are dauntless
Hard hearts cower
Soft hearts speak softly
Hard hearts speak harshly
Soft hearts tell the truth
Hard hearts deny
Soft hearts are light
Hard hearts are dark
Soft hearts are scar covered
Hard hearts are intact
Soft hearts let love in
Hard hearts keep love out
Soft hearts are the antidote to hate
Hard hearts spread hate like multiplying cancer cells
Soft hearts:
May we know them
May we BE them
May we help hard hearts become soft.

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2014

DECISIONS

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The making up of your mind is a slow process
Everyday you make up your mind
A confrontation
A Decision
Must be made
Up ahead
At the place where the road turns
You must decide
No one leaves a marriage
On the spur of the moment
You don’t pull the plug
On some one on life support
On a split second decision
Big out comes are decided
Long before they happen….

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2014

More Than This?

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Who can love you more than this?
When I look at you
When I hold you
When I whisper your name
Who can love you more than this
When I look you in your eyes
When I tell you you’re a beautiful human being
Who can love you more than this
When I text you first thing
When I pray for you
Asking God to keep you safe
When I massage the stress out of your stressed out ,achy body
When I caress your face
Who?
Please tell me who can love you more than this
When I tell you I love your soul
I love your heart
I love your spirit
I love your mind
Tell me, who can love you more than this?
Now, won’t you do the same for me?

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2014

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Written on Your Tomb Stone

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What do you want your head stone to say?
What was your story?
Were you a mean son of a bitch?
Were you a crazy ass bitch?
What do you want written on your tomb stone?
Were you a heart breaker?
Were you a mender of hearts?
Were you an open wallet?
Were you a stingy penny pincher?
Were you a bitter slave?
Were you a happy free man?
Were you a train wreck?
Were you one who cleaned up after the wreck?
Were you selfish?
Were you a shy fish hiding in your shell?
Were you a flower who never bloomed?
Were you an opened up full of abundant life sun flower?
Was your heart a frozen tundra
Where people you were supposed to nurture died of starvation from your neglect?
Were you a fertile valley
Where people grew like trees
And the multitudes bloomed from your love?
Were you a discourager?
Were you an encourager?
Were you someone people ran from because all you caused them to feel was pain?
Did you draw people to you because of your love
Like a powerful magnet?
What will your head stone read?
Will there be a line of people at your wake
Tripping over themselves, waiting to eulogize you?
Will there be no one at your wake
Because no one bothered since you never bothered caring for others
What will your head stone read?

EVA SANTIAGO copyright2014