Seeing green everywhere you look, green leaves, leaves that look like human hands from human arms that are called branches, wrists that are the stems on leaves as they attach to branches, wrists onto arms.
Movement constantly, always a breeze, may to be just a slight breeze, but always leaves moving in even the smallest breeze, leaves nodding like chins, up and down, a tree that approves, a nod as the leaves applaud you and your achievements.
A Maple tree leaf with three triangular projections on its surface, veins capillaries in the leaf taking water instead of blood to all ends of the leaf to feed the leaf with water, nutrients of compost in the soil, healthy leaves, seeds spreading of Maple trees winding up like helicopters, flying as far as the breeze takes it, colored red and green in autumn, with hints of yellow to light up the leaf as if surfacing the yellowness of the sun.
Autumn, you cannot deny it, it is a beautiful season in some countries, a season of a family of trees, leaves shaking hands with you, spreading into compost feeding the soil, vegetarian delights, greenness and orange, red vegetables and yellow.
A tree and then another tree, great California Redwoods, hearing a tree fall in a forest, being the only one to hear it. Yes, it fell, and made a sound and you are the only witness, we believe in you.
Schoolyards filled with learning students, paper in their notebooks created from the wood of trees. Would I, could I? Weeding our gardens, to be or not to be. Shaking a spear like Shakespeare, students becoming great authors, books leafing as we turn the papers. Spreading gold leaf on paintings, not to be touched. When a leaf dies and falls from its Mother Tree it changes into a color of gold, gold without water, a dried withering leaf, gold as the color of its death, metallic nothingness. Whiteness being the color of life instead, white everywhere in the cleanness of your thoughts and actions as you love with or without white snow.
Flowers like the white, red or pink velvety Rose blossom, soft petals as soft as a baby's skin, but thorns to warn those who would pick it, a "Do Not Disturb" no trespassing sign. To clip it, snip! Like the cutting of the umbilical cord, but to touch it in a tactile manner on its soft blossoms, with no thorns no blood. To gently touch the pollen as it collects inside, an orangey color, powdery as on the Lily, a flower of whiteness, the flower of purity, there being a White Peace Lily as the ritual plant of the Christian holiday of Easter during the springtime.
Pureness, whiteness, honesty, integrity, safety and truth, but most of all: LOVE...
A renewal, a fountain of youth, a fountain of chocolate, a piñata struck with the handle of a broom, a broomstick on which to fly during a full moon, which? A witch? The switch of a broom to swoosh away impurities, impurities unable to penetrate, clean in one's thoughts, one's actions, without water, a clean mind, a mind that switches from dirty to clean in a state of love.
A state of true love, a love for a child, a baby, a child born clean, a mother whose state of giving birth unclean to the jealous, a body of a Mom who created a child, the cleanest happiest truest Mother who never gives up, your Mother to live forever, she tries, day by day she tries, we as her little angels lift her up so she flies, she is already there.
In heaven we shall meet again.
To be in a search for the answer to a question, a quest for the answer of a quest-shun.
What is a quest-shun? Is it a question you are not supposed to ask, if in asking the question you get shunned, kicked in a shin to then be shunned?
If you ask a question of someone, you are admitting you do not know the answer, to be told you should already have known the answer that it was not right for you to ask and admit your ignorance to be in search for the truth. People pretending they know what it is that you want to know from them, when there is no real answer and the truth is not there.
Secrets, as secretions of spittle, not advantageous for you to understand. To feel pureness because of a lack of confusion, knowing real wisdom instead.
Never to have taken a bite of the apple. To then find out it was not an apple that Eve (really Ava) who tempted Adam to eat, it was instead a pomegranate. To read about embroidered pomegranates on robes, tunics, of Jewish Priests. Knowing that if you bite into the whiteness of a pomegranate, you are biting into extreme bitterness. To want this bitterness? To eat horseradish or a spicy pepper? Foods someone says are good but are really not.
To eat blueberries because they are blue or raspberries because they are red. To fight in baseball games as the Red Cardinals over the Blue Cubbies. To wonder why grown men in football seek to tumble their opponents to cause them injury and to chase a leather ball because it is no longer made of pigskin. A football a baby, a baby cradled in one's arms to smash on the ground when you make a touchdown.
A way to find out truths but to discern a real truth that is not a lie.
To feel God in one's body between your shoulders on your upper back. Being in a bullfight to stab a bull between his shoulders. To wave a red cape to incite the bull, to be a winner in Spain and Mexico as a male bull dies. To pray for forgiveness in this cold blooded murder, to then must do it again and again. It being called your occupation, a way to earn a living.
To happily semi-retire to feed a bull instead of killing it.
Who was the man who discovered America? Was he Chris, Kris, Kris Kringle, Christian, Christ, Christopher? Could you call a Jewish man Christopher and/or a Jewish woman Mary? Why all this secrecy, paranoia, people who are lying about their Faith.
How could the atrocities of the Spanish Inquistion and the Holocaust still have such a sour taste in our mouths, so much so, that we openly lie to people about our Faiths. Can you lie to a convert of Judaism about your Jewish Faith? We are supposed to love the Jewish converts, not lie and deceptively abuse them.
An underground secret Jew was Columbus, he lived during the time of the Spanish Inquistion, and wanted to preserve his life so he wanted the world to think he was a Christian, had a name change, he was born to parents who were Maranos and he too was a Marano. The Marano was/is a secret Jew, who lied and said they were not Jewish to the government so they would not be killed in the Spanish Inquistion.
What exactly is a Marano? See him secretly eat some food and some not, see him hiding his Mexican hot sauce, hiding his Spanish descent? Closing the curtain, looking back and forth as if with multiple eyes, chaining his wallet to his pants, even though it is empty, in fear of being discovered, even though he is among friends who already know his identity.
Wearing a blue cap around his head like his yarmulkeh, never to remove. Dark skin? What me? Hot sauce? Who me? Mexican. Spanish. We are Maranos, the secret Spanish Jews who lived through a time period of the slaughtering of millions of Jews, convert or die. Me? Me no speaky English, we are Spanish, see? We know how to speak espanol, the language of the dark-skinned Jew, the Spanish-American Jew.
Columbus was the first Spanish-American Jew to set foot on America, since then, we have been the United States of America and he was the one who discovered it. His parents' name was Columbo not Columbus. Dreaming of a place to "come out" a place to have freedom and religious equal rights. To truly exercise your rights, we must stop hiding. Esther, truly a mentor!
"Who are you??"
"None of your business!"
"Do you speaky English?"
"Um? No comprendo".
"No comprendo, no employment."
