Slowly but surely,
I let go.
I say thank you,
I pause.
I cry, and I laugh.
I release all my tears
to wash the path clean,
to water the new.
I sit still,
looking back,
resisting the urge
to escape into the next.
I make time to heal,
time to grieve,
and time to celebrate.
I feel robbed, and I feel rich.
I feel vulnerable,
and I feel empowered.
I honour the old me,
our good and bad times together,
all of you who stood beside me,
the work done, the lessons learnt.
I give thanks, and I move on,
a little softer and a little stronger.

Barcelona, 2022

Publicado originalmente en Soul Forte: A Journal for Spiritual Writing, Issue 11, Junio 2025.

It took me by surprise
and shook me like a leaf.
It cut me with its thorns
until my blood mourned.

It drowned me in tears
upon a bed of roses.
I flew high on its wings
into the blackest waters.

It connected all the dots,
unveiled secrets and lies.
I touched heaven with one hand
as my feet burned in hell.

Riding waves of shame,
deep into the beauty of sadness,
down the mountain of humility,
I faced the beast of fear.

I laughed mostly at my selves
and cried for all us women,
for Mother Earth, her creatures,
for Ukraine, Vietnam and the Fallen.

It broke my heart open-
but not my soul.
It unleashed my darkest fears,
laying bare my holiest parts.

First, I felt you beside me.
Then I became you,
and you became me-
until there was only One.

I am reborn, knowing
that love won’t kill me.
It only breaks me open,
letting the light flood in.

May its scent stay with me
as I descend back into my life.
May its colours shine brightly
through all my deeds and actions.

May my body and soul
stay impregnated with its record.
May it forever hold me
connected to the divine.

Because in the end,
there is no end-
only the pulse of existence.
Nothing is important; 
everything simply is.


Almería, 2022

It is through the silence
that we hear the crickets sing Jay!
and our hearts open up
to the beat of the cacao

it is through the silence
that we feel the sound of our roots 
entering the earth and the crackling of the fire 
lighting up our core

it is through the silence
that we tune into our own melody 
that of the person next to us
and mother earth’s lullaby

it is through the silence
that we hear our lover’s breath
humanity’s tears kiss the ground
and the source whispering into our crown

it is though the silence
that we notice the poems trickling down 
our ancestors’ memoirs floating in
and the footsteps of our soul to follow

it is through the silence
that we can ask permission
to centre, expand and receive 
and to heal all of our connections 

it is through the silence
that we are.

Vacarisses, 2023

I lose myself
time and again
a million times
have I lost my selves
so many times
I became a seeker
I looked for gurus
I searched for healers
I tried to find god
and also some dealers
I looked for mother
and then for father
I searched the scriptures
and travelled the world
looking for something
looking for anything
I vanished in movies
in characters and names
I played them a thousand times
switched channels
always the same
I lost myself in them
in you and also him
until one day I pushed the button
the screen turned blank
and I was home.

Barcelona, 2023

Publicado originalmente en Soul Forte: A Journal for Spiritual Writing, Issue 11, Junio 2025.

Deliberate solitude,
my new companion.
We sip orxata
amongst loud families,
and we read only poetry.
We eat without podcasts,
we walk alone, not lonely.

At first it is noisy,
uncomfortable and frightening.
Sitting through that part,
it becomes peaceful,
then bliss kicks in,
gratitude descends
and freedom sparks creativity.

She inspires me to write
and lets me paint.
She lets me just be
and creates space
for me to decipher
all those inner voices
long longing to be decoded.

There's a constant urge
to call a friend
to send a message
but I resist,
to be with her,
fully present, aware of myself,
the good, the bad and the raw.

I choose not to escape
the thoughts of my mind.
Without judging,
I let them flow by
just like the minutes
of being with myself,
not by myself.

Deliberate solitude often invites a guest.
His name is fomo.
Unwanted, I kindly ask him
to leave us alone.
Jealousy sometimes drops by too
but she usually leaves quickly
for the neighbour’s house.

Intentional solitude takes me apart
and puts me back together.
Like a medicine she removes the dirt
and lets the light back in.
Clean, spacious and humbled,
centred and together,
I go back into society.

Barcelona, 2022

Publicado originalmente en Soul Forte: A Journal for Spiritual Writing, Issue 11, Junio 2025.

So many years

without hearing your voice,

because nobody had told me

that your voice is my own voice,

and I had not liked my voice.

They had taught me you are someone,

someone outside and above.

Choosing anger over happiness,

I rejected all of it, all of you,

devoted completely to the mind.

Until my skin caught fire,

urging me to look within,

to listen, to trust,

and to seek silence.

I opened up --

a moment of grace,

of extraordinary awareness.

Heaven unfolded above,

and then within,

and I knew.

I remembered,

a truth too vast for words.

Montserrat, 2022

Publicado originalmente en Soul Forte: A Journal for Spiritual Writing, Issue 11, Junio 2025.

545 meses. Se dice rápido.
545 pétalos en el papel.
¿Cuántas manchas pintabas?
¿Cuántas flores deshojaste?

Meses que parecen semanas,
Semanas que se sienten eternas.
El dibujo se construye,
El tiempo pasa y todo cambia.

¿Dónde acaba, si realmente acaba?
¿Dónde acabas tú y donde empiezo yo?
‘Lo verde sana', dijiste.
¿Quién sanó a quién?

Vivir conscientemente,
Contar hasta 100 sin distraerse.
Vivir la vida, sin decir ‘cuando’, parando.
Sin pensar, pintando.

–

Solo porque la obra está creada
El duelo no se acaba.
Solo porque el tiempo pasa,
Todo no se cura.

Tu sigues lanzando tacas,
Desde donde? No importa.
Poco a poco este verde se agota
Y la primavera, nuevos colores trae.

El tiempo pasa como todo pasa.
Ser del pasado y a la vez del presente,
Con nosotras estas siempre,
En las manchas y el papel.

Barcelona, 2022

Slowly we can see
the light we have dimmed down.
We start to feel
a strength we don’t let out.

Admiring others
is what we do intensely-
how they look, talk,
achieve, and how they move.

We submerge
and won’t let shine,
our best self
we hide behind.

Reclaiming our light
is hairy and takes courage,
to let it shine bright
without anyone to judge.

Even if it feels too big
and others uproarious,
share a magnificent gift,
and dare to be glorious.

Barcelona, 2021

Here we are again,
after what was not,
a walk in the Park.
Dancing in the great Hall,
skin to skin, aura to aura.
No more space for distancing,
Soaking it all in,
and releasing even more.
Complex human beings,
bound together by music
dancing in the Village,
green grass below our feet.
Fields intertwined,
exchanging glitter and sweat,
tears and breaths.
A long meditation,
experiencing belonging
to this Club of human beings.
Energy as technology,
and technology as creativity,
into dance and music.
To break us open,
let us lose control.
To make us feel,
to set us free.

We switch to summertime, and still, we clap.
By now, not just for those on the front lines.
We clap because we get to put our heads outside,
because we hear—and maybe even see—each other.
We clap to release energy,
to make noise, to feel our bodies.
We clap because we are alive,
because we have survived another day,
privileged enough to clap together.

We clap to keep things moving,
to motivate others, to motivate ourselves.
We clap because we need to be heard,
to connect, to give thanks—
despite everything, or perhaps because of it.

We clap, hoping our loved ones in hospitals and care homes hear us.
We clap to continue.
We clap because we can,
because we love.

Barcelona, 2020