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!”