Northern Sky: Free-Verse

Northern Sky: Free-Verse

By Armando Ortiz

I was conceived in the heart of a growing city

where youth overflowed and were pushed north,

I was born under the northern sky

towards the west where Aries floats near Perseus.

I gave my first cry to the angels of that place,

while they were busy chasing stars.

I was followed by its galactic embrace,

inside planes and mountain trails.

It’s been a silent shelter,

a deep blue safety blanket. 

It’s protected my journeys,

together we traced the contours of China.

It’s kept me warm under the splendor of night 

and bathed me with the cover of midday light.

Its midwest sun passed me by

as I raced towards the western mesas.

In the endless hours through unknown places,

the suspended constellations were my anchor.

Even as I sailed deeper into the ocean of life’s experiences,

the daily burst of stars became the coast of my youth.

Where the waves of time crash with the moment,

and the sound of the turning universe births each second.

Wherever I was, there it was

a different hue of blue but always true.

Summer's Arrival: Free-Verse

Summer’s Arrival

By Armando Ortiz

Jacarandas dry up 

as they fell and landed 

on the sidewalk, 

a purple carpet 

welcomes our walk.

Jasmine fragrances blend 

with the warming days, 

tiny white flowers burst

Summer's sudden arrival.

Traffic lights turn red,

a humming is stalled,

destinations unknown

in cars people forever roam.

Sparrows perch on branches,

feeding crying chicks.

Hummingbirds hovering besides

crimson nectar feeders.

Sycamore trees lush and green,

swaying with the wind,

cars resume their drive,

artificial breeze picks up. 

Offshore currents

blending with westerly flows,

longer warm days mix with

the humdrum of summer’s arrival.

Stargaze: Free Verse

Stargaze: Free-Verse

By Armando Ortiz

Materials gathered and shaped to replicate a moment, an instance of awe as men stand seeing wonders.

Celestial blanket, following the earth's curve, earthly hands making cairns, the breeze flowing to the four directions.

The unwinding coil that opens as an Anasazi trail that starts where it ends. Chaco road to Polaris, little bear forever pivoting towards mother, a kaleidoscope of lights.

The unmoving torch that seems to unweave itself from dusk to dawn, a pinyon cone falls from a gnarled branch as time flows with the passing wind, the galaxy winds an eternal ticking clock.

A mechanical thermostat ignites the flame that warms us tonight, its coil adjusting the temperature, keeping a steady pleasant night.

Our minds are still the same as before, in play and rediscovery.

The glare of the stars blinding our eyes, and modern artifacts with applications guiding, pointing towards the road where the constellations of the evening hidden lay.

Stone pillars reveal the way to a time of wonder today, with the sun rising over Stonehenge with steady trajectory, and Venus’ orbit momentarily hiding behind a Maya temple.

Galactic sign posts for eyes to search the night are also revealed by a screen’s light, reminding you that the day reveals itself in the wonders on display.

So use the gps or the star map to gaze or better yet find a mountain top to hike.

And from there, be in awe as you stand and calmly a starry delight unveils itself across the dark, where diamonds and sapphires glittering patiently float in a trance along the universal orbit.

Reignite the bonfire, joining the song, and toss more wood to be cozy through the night.

Vessels: Free - Verse

Vessels

By Armando Ortiz

We are a collection of thoughts and memories

our bodies are vessels sensing reality,

Domes are an eye to the universe

inside and through them you see the world,

Constellations glow in the night sky

and the four winds never die.

Enter the reed hut

exit the underground sweat,

Reexperience your birth

following the daily cycles,

The moon moving from the east

sunsets along the western horizon,

The dizzying swirl of the universe

walking on holy ground in our life.

The moment is sacred and eternal

vessels receiving everything sensed,

The earth is cool to the touch

shade of oaks protect us from the heat,

The tree bears fruit

wild flowers wither.

Leaves turn brown in the garden

seeds get buried underground,

Stone cathedrals show human genius

canyon walls speak to open hearts,

 

Mundane eyes see the sacred everywhere

clay pots getting filled by life and time.

We are a collection of the experiences

deciding what to filter and what to let in,

Turning past events into thoughts,

feelings churning into action

Meant to be here now,

experiencing the infinite miracle.

The Golden Hour of LA: Free-verse

The Golden Hour of LA

By Armando Ortiz

The glow of the sun still bursting through the incoming night

lights still reflected on the side of the northwest facing glass,

contrasting an orange glow to the dark silhouette.

The city lighting on, adding a delicate air of earthly stars

low beam headlights reflected from the traffic signs.

A flow of geese form an incomplete V crossing the sky

and at a distance the trails are dry and the color of clay.

The chaparral covered hills turning into unknown shadows,

white, purple, and black sage merging with the wind.

The golden hour quickly fades into the evening

peaceful serendipity as the instance lingers in the clouds.

Dyad: Free-verse

Dyad

By Armando Ortiz

Dyad of butterflies

dancing in the air,

fluttering orange wings, 

in mid flight with gentle flare.

Dyad of butterflies,

under a summer sun,

floating by as in a song,

to a place unknown. 

Dyad of butterflies,

midday sun is bright,

the light making bare, 

watch how they take flight.

Dyad of butterflies,

coming and going,

with time to spare,

dancing along in midair.

Dyad of butterflies,

rising and falling,

pausing and swimming, 

blown along the air.

Dyad of butterflies,

open and close,

castaways sailing,

on shimmering waves.

Bryce Canyon National Park: A Hike into the Layers of Time and Mind

Bryce Canyon National Park: A Hike into the Layers of Time and Mind

By Armando Ortiz

Bryce Canyon National Park lies on the Colorado Plateau of the Four Corners region of the United States. It is part of a geological area called the Escalante Grand Staircase. This area includes Zion National Park and to the south the Grand Canyon, making it quite remote but also unique in many ways. It's called a staircase because there are different layers of rock and sediment that can be seen from the highest to lowest point, making it a geologist and camper's paradise. In other words, this area’s varying layers of land are exposed and it's like seeing the different layers of a cake that are up to ten thousand feet tall. There are many things one can do in this area like stargaze, camp and hiking of varying difficulties. The highest points of this geological area are found in Bryce Canyon. Bryce Canyon in other words is at the edge of a plateau that is about nine thousand feet above sea level. This men

Hiking Bryce Canyon is a preternatural experience. You start your hike at the parking area where you can take several short hikes that follow the edge of Bryce Canyon. These trails offer lots of shade and you can admire the various pine trees that coexist. Hiking down into a canyon you feel like walking down into an orange amphitheater. Monsoon rains will highlight the scents of the trees and bushes as you enter this world. You will be greeted by a pine that has grown in between the clay walls. You’ll look up to see branches extended a few feet above you.

If you let your mind wander you begin to see things that weren’t there before. Kachina figures carved on the mountains seem to stand erect. Mud heads watching along the trail, waiting for you to get distracted. Bear scratches on the giant walls seemed to have been marked by an ancient species. Grottoes of unknown weathered buddhas seem to have been there for hundreds of years, weathered and sunbathed, still standing. Yet, one has to be reminded that we are walking on sacred land.

You start wondering if milarepa was mingling with Paiute shamans. These geological wonders were once places to rest. Its shade provides respite from the sun. Then suddenly a chipmunk races across and to the top causing these delicate walls to crumble. You notice mangled pine roots grabbing on to cliff sides. Their dark and gnarled limbs contrasting the red earth. You suddenly might find yourself in a shaded niche of sorts. A quiet location where the grinding of seeds and medicine took place. Maybe during vision quests the stars were studied from that spot. The spires seem to watch your every move. The sun, whether it be a cloudy day, is strong.

One feels like walking in a labyrinth of tangerine and white pinnacles. Pine tree branches bent, 4 shaped limbs marking the way. You pass through the ruins of a desert palace made of adobe orange and red clay. You begin to wonder if the story of hoodoos is real or not. We stop in between an entrance and rest our bodies from the sun in the cool shade. Take a sip of water, because there isn't any anywhere. The sun bears down on your body making your skin sticky and wet. If it wasn’t for the trail signs we’d be like rodents finding the exit.

Your mind begins to wonder if these earth formations are the ruins of the Anasazi. Entry ways lead you to other openings. Pathways that were once hallways are dead ends. These labyrinths make you dizzy. Maybe the ancients that committed sins are dwelling here and intend to get us lost. There is a pause in the hike, and we look up, the sky is a deep blue, and puffy white clouds indicate flash floods in the distance.

Faces carved by nature and time appear from out of nowhere. Suddenly one of the pillars seems to be wearing a white fedora. Rhinoceros horns make tops of the white fins that outline the ridges within the canyon. The image of the Virgin Mary appears eroded on the cliffs. Maybe it is time to pray to the gods. Your legs get shaky, but it's the heat and the dizzying hike. You follow the people ahead of you hoping they know the way. You wonder if cloud tears had created this site, millennia of thunderstorms passing through, feeding every nook and cranny with water.

Following the path down leads you to the smallest theater in the world, and from there you might discover a weathered diorama to one’s imagination. Maybe if you are lucky you might hear the old song dedicated to the sun. Focus on following the signs and keep track of the distance. When in doubt stand about under the shade, someone is bound to pass by. Again, water is essential on this trail, so take sips as you go. As you begin to reemerge from this mysterious place, turn around, and admire the vastness of the place. Once people called this place home, and found their way out just like we did. You return to the rim of the canyon, and you begin to see more greenery. Walk to your car and look back down at the canyon, you were just down there. 

Wandering Wonder: Free-verse Piece

Wandering Wonder

By Armando Ortiz

Wandering soul of wonder, 

under the noon sun splendor.

Meandering through the summer, 

inside a jacaranda temple.

A gentle river in late september, 

cooling our feet from a day’s labor.

I close my eyes to open them again, 

and feel the season’s tenor.

The next moment seems frozen, 

her touch is forever tender.

An easterly breeze sweeps, 

making trees sway gentle. 

Fields of Flowers

Fields of Flowers

By Armando Ortiz

Amids fields of white flowers, 

A spectacle of nature unfolds.

They become floating clouds of wonder,

Adorning the landscape they unfold.

As you walk along the path, 

Butterflies gracefully flutter by.

Their delicate wings, a colorful contrast, 

Catch the sunlights, reaching the sky.

The wind dances with playful glee, 

Taking the butterflies out yonder.

Their journey, a whimsical spree, 

As they explore and wander.

In this picturesque scene so serene, 

Nature’s beauty dances with delight.

Fields of white, a dreamlike sheen, 

Creating a magical sight.

The floating clouds of petals sway, 

Carried by the gentle breeze. 

A symphony of colors in display, 

Nature’s masterpiece to appease.

So, wander along the path of dreams, 

Where white flowers and butterflies unite.

Let the wonders of nature’s themes, 

Fill your heart with sheer delight.

Campos de Flores Blancas

Por Armando Ortiz

En los campos de flores blancas, 

Nace un espectaculo divino.

Se vuelven nubes flotantes de maravilla,

Vistiendo el paisaje como un destino.

Al caminar por el sendero,

Mariposas revolotean con esplendor. 

Sus alas delicadas, un contraste certero, 

Atrapan la luz del sol, alcanzando el cielo en su fulgor.

El viento danza con alegria jugetona, 

Llevando a las mariposas hacia lo lejano.

Su viaje, una travesia caprichosa, 

Mientras exploran y deambulan sin engano.

En esta escena pintoresca y serena, 

La belleza de la naturaleza danza con deleite.

Campos de blanco resplandecen sin pena, 

Creando un espectaculo magico que excita.

Las nubes flotantes de petalos se mecen, 

Acariciadas por la brisa suave.

Una sinfonia de colores aparece,

Obra maestra de la naturaleza, un suave enclave.

Asi que vaga por el sendero de ensueno,

Donde flores blancas y mariposas se unen.

Deja que las maravillas de los temas de la naturaleza,

Llenen to corazon de pura alegria, 

donde el amor se inmotraliza en cada lienzo y  cada verso.