The City

I miss you, New York City. 

I love your freedom. 

I love your understanding. 

I love your culture and your warmth. 

I love your diversity. 

I love your willing.

I love your giving.

I love you.

My home. 

So secure in my life. So secure of myself. 

All of you, beautiful people 

In the delis and the garages and the drug stores,

Everywhere, all around

On my too late early strolls, 

Making sure... I'd be ok. 

So much love... 

The New York City way.

You respect, you're not condescending, and wow... 

You actually talk to the people in the underground. 

You crave knowledge, you crave connection, you crave growth.

You're evolution. 

Revolution.

Diversity.

The New York City that be. 

Mother Earth

Most of the days, I feel like a fire-woman on call but, apart from some agency charity campaigns here and there, I don't put out any 'real fire'. Apart from donating, writing and signing petitions here and there, I Don't Put Out Any 'Real Fire'. I need to do more. This planet needs more. This blue sphere deserves so much more. And we, as the villains, have the moral responsibility to undo our wrongs. So many wrongs. So many undoable. We have to keep on believing, though. What else is left than Hope? We did this. We have to undo this. Help our host. Help Mother Earth.

World Native

Just heard the ice-cream van.
Although I never go and buy one, I love to hear the music, no matter what city, no matter what country I'm living in. It makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. I suppose it's because, for me, that's something with roots.
That ice-cream van is the 'same’ wherever I am.