When you lose a mother, you lose the one who brought you into the world
to your goddess
the beautiful home where you took refuge during those months of transformation
a life in sync with its heartbeat
spiritual unity
When you lose a mother, you lose the one who brought you into the world
to your goddess
the beautiful home where you took refuge during those months of transformation
a life in sync with its heartbeat
spiritual unity
A moment to reflect,
a moment to pause and observe.
A moment of silence,
in that insistent moment,
of incoherent apathy,
By Irlanda Ruíz Aguirre
In an age where technology, social media, and the demands of daily life overwhelm us, talking about sensitivity seems almost like a joke to many. Being sensitive isn’t a job requirement; it’s not something for ambitious men or determined women. Being sensitive simply doesn’t seem to fit in with the world today.
On February 6, 1937, the cold and damp—in the form of Franco’s troops and their allies—surrounded the city of Málaga like a gigantic wave about to engulf everything. My grandfather Rafael, from whom I inherited a love of antique desks, poetry, and delicate seashells, told me many years ago—perhaps more than thirty—that he was fourteen when my great-grandfather came home and told my great-grandmother that…
As we approached the city of Teotihuacán, I could see the iconic eagles flying above our car and the beautiful pyramids on the horizon. My brother and I eagerly got out of the car, drawn by the enchanting scent of marigolds.
By Loli Molina
intermittent: adj. Suffering from madness, not continuously, but at intervals.
We are the ones who open the doors so that
those who were left out can come in
Accents, dialects, and
fanfares from a thousand and one languages flow through our veins