Unending is the tide

crashing on the beach

dragging the pebbles

in a long drawn sound,

down in the depths

where waves are born,

where silence reigns.


Gently the waves lap the shore,

caressing the sand in a shy embrace,

a soft kiss that leaves no marks

on the unperturbed border

between the worlds.

Such is your love

Such is my love


Down in the depths

where passion lies waiting

for the next opening,

its chance for life.

A howling wind

stirs up the quiet silence

creating a torrid storm.

Nothing can remain quiet,

nothing can stand still.

All is captured in the vortex

for as long as it lasts.


A soft breeze carries scents

of old forgotten times, lands of plenty,

memories and dreams.

The delicate scent is powerfully intoxicating,

it flies everywhere,

no human, nor animal, no tree, nor stone

is left untouched by its golden hue.

Such is your love

Such is my love


Never meant to meet,

forever walking aside,

never together.

Such is our love.

February 2014





Happy Valentine day, let’s remember the great beauty of love in our hearts and all around us. Let’s acknowledge our loved ones past, present and future.


January 7th a time for fire

Let’s celebrate the waters of the world with the fire ceremony on January 7th 2014
Celebriamo le acque con la cerimonia del fuoco oggi 7 di Gennaio 2014

A gift from a wise man, one of the wisdom keepers of the world, they belong to all the traditions, all the races, all the genuine spiritual paths, very rarely they come from organized religions.

All my best wishes for you, your families and your plans for the year ahead.

Growing pains

So many days spent quietly writing, correcting, polishing, deep in thought about the universe being created on the page, but none of this helps me now in writing my dreaded synopsis.

I guess many feel like me the concern for the sudden exposure to other people’s eyes on my work, as if they could read into my soul, well in a way they are, I even ask them to.

I am spending an inordinate amount of time writing, reading, proofing and finally throwing away the piece of paper supposedly meant to hold my message in a bottle to agents and publishing houses. Please buy my book, it should say, if it were at all honest, instead it is filled with a horrid (to me) short version of the main story of the novel.

Yes, I know, I know: packaging is the most important part of the sale, but this story doesn’t want to fit in a box, it keeps escaping, it is alive and hates to be in one form only.

So here I am looking at the many agencies, publishers, contests and wondering if this frail ship will take me to the other side the way it wants, or if I need to force the material into a more suitable form for the world.

Opinions, suggestions, nudges are all welcome, since I am crossing this river, but I would prefer to do it in good company.

Thank you!

A gift for this season

Since we are now in the festive season I want to give you a big gift, some words of ancient wisdom from a wisdom keeper, a spirit man from the respected native tradition:

Dear world,
Special Messages from Grandfather Joseph


“Life is a journey. I think I’ve been this way. First of all I start by saying we don’t exist, so when I travel, I travel then to substantiate the fact that I do exist – but that I exist in a way that what supports my existence – my physical existence, my mental existence, my emotional existence and spiritual existence – is the spirit. All of us in that one spirit of lifeness, a spirit of finding adventures.

And then I see, in others that look just like me, two-leggeds in women and in men, that who we really are is the spirit. To go into adventures and to find the excitement and the experiences and the abilities that come in those moments when we are in that place with friends and friendships and the way they flood us with love and appreciation – the kind of love that is perpetual.

It never, never, for me, never dies. It’s always glowing and it’s always there. So that no matter where I am or where I go, I see that’s the light that keeps us searching for to find moments, those moments of enlightened awareness. Thank you.”


~ Grandfather Joseph Rael – Beautiful Painted Arrow


 “Tree of Life” – a special message from Grandfather
The Tree of Life ~ Joseph Rael
The Tree of Life ~ Joseph Rael

Altar of the Mountain Lion – Mossa-neh

There is an ancient tradition that if the grandfather did something and didn’t finish, the grandson would finish it. Joseph tells a story about his grandfather taking a fresh killed deer from the Wooden Cross Mountain hunting ground, because it was winter in 1937 and the people in the Pueblo were hungry. Then, in 1980, Joseph was hunting in the same mountain area, with the elder who had been hunting that day with his grandfather. A deer offered itself, and he shot it, but instantly he heard that he was not to touch it – he offered a little cornmeal, and left it for the great grandchildren of the mountain lion his grandfather had taken the deer from.

A week later, while building a sweat lodge in Tulsa, a man approached Joseph, saying that he had a dream that instructed him to give Joseph a special mountain lion’s paw that he had. This confirmed that the offering Joseph had left had been received. Joseph suggests that we look at our lives and see where we might be completing the work of our ancestors.

He says, “Don’t worry about it! But it can help us understand how life can seem a little crazy!” Joseph adds: “This is now the time of the cat.”

Altar of the Mountain Lion – Mossa-nah

Information on Joseph’s work can be found at     http://www.josephrael.org/

A time for tales

It is a great pleasure to be among so many talented story tellers, so with some hesitation I share that I am finally opening the door to a new story.

None less than the Storyteller himself/herself/itself? Has decided to visit me with a story, while I was walking by the sea, I cannot yet share what the tale will be about, since I am just following the first scanty leads, but I can share the beauty of the new creation.  Writing daily is a great gift, especially after months of silence.

Wherever the story will lead me, there I will go. It sounds like the ancient promise made by Roman brides to their husbands to be, well yes, in a way writing is a marriage. I am engaged first to the intriguing idea, then I wholeheartedly marry the entire story, its characters, its plot and developments, until I and the story are one.

Then one day we both know it is finished, we will part ways, but the love will remain.

It is good to be in love again.

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Entering Autumn

The season is slowly moving towards darker and colder times, we are preparing for the winter time by piling up  wood for our fires and sharing stories about warmer times, so that the rays of the sun can light up the obscurity.

This season is really asking us to look deep inside and search for the seeds of light that will guide us through the next few months.

With the progression of the season we see less apparent movement in nature, all seems frozen, but there is activity in the darkness of the earth, much is prepared when the seeds have been sown and the soil welcomes them for a new journey towards terrestrial birth.