With excitement and without luggage I arrived to a paradise;

illusory walls and sliding clouds,

dwelling of celestial elements: “The Angels” –

seraphs of the “plasma” inhabit it; and a path

awash with starry paving stones – stepped

by the followers and the worshiped, both mortals;

they set their hands in the humid or dry cement,

and some camera, celebrated or not – always smile.

And without trouble or fanfare, I confess, I have too.

With excitement, without luggage, I arrived to a little house

with and Andalusian garden and y vintage chambers;

my globalized hostess my homeland cuisine

in her cabinets proudly displayed.

and there, full of peace I was, at the summit

of the queen of heaven’s town.  And pink and gold and purple her veil

put to bed the light sphere under her bosom

and, at the seaside of Malibu, the sea and I said “So long!”