A Poem at Mid Night

What would Wordsworth say

About today’s poetry,

About the over-saturation of words,

“Spontaneously over-flowing”

or a cry for help? In

A world burgeoning in self-deprecation

And violent human provocation

Some words sink to the bottom

And some float to the top

In dead zone books

Of undercurrents

Often called education

Where thousands of miles away

Intelligence is dictated by the few

And for the many

Where the loss of the value

for nature and

A forgotten art of pondering daffodils

In the stillness of a wild field

Is the real deficit

We are looking for.


The thoughts of half a century sway

Unsteadily in my mind

And I want to get away

From what is surely my own death throes

Of expectations

Dissipating slowly in

This mid-night hour

Starless and moonless,

Blocking out the noise that is my life

And merging into the soul of the earth

Where money no longer chains me

In that vicious cycle of measurements

In words that analyze

Haves and

Have not.


April 18, 2015

Rain Haiku


Misty rain on skin

Fallen colors breathing in

Becoming the earth


The earth is in me

Patterns of light are woven

Intricate beauty

The Rock


It’s been a while since I’ve been there,

a patch of light to clear the mind,

a breath of air,

cold slab

stone to sit on,

hooded jackets bulging

with apples,

and emptiness.

Silence is the turning of the leaves,

bootstraps caked with mud and dung

and thin ice in the shadows of barren trees,

oak and sarsaparilla,

waiting for that stillness to begin,

quieting the beating wings

inside me.

That small place,

those dark blue skies

illuminate my need to be alive,

away from noise and thought,

a solitary walk,


ingesting my own silhouette,

to know, to bear, to feel, to welcome


once again.

I Could Have Fed You Flowers


I could have fed you flowers

on a Sunday morn

still sleepy with the folds of night,

or gather you softly in the smell of rain,

to bring the petrichor of heavens to your lips,

let you sip the nectar of the Goddess,

a sweet luminescence of moonbeams,

an iridescent palette of the Universe,

a fragrant opulence of dreams.

I could have brought you forests in a bowl,

spoon bites of light, and limbs, and roots, and pungent earth,

Could have brought you the tranquil sea,

or the pastel sky,

or a river dancing, swirling, galloping

down a riverbed of colored stones.

But honestly,

all I ever really wanted,

was to feed you flowers on a Sunday morn.


still waters

mauna loa setting

be still my heart

as a mountain absorbed

in mist, in rain, in sun,

her beauty grounded

in her own knowing.

be still

as the spirit stilled the sea,

still my heart,

so I can simply be

here, present, believe

those tears that grace my face

are not mine,

or in reality,


about you or me,

with all the troubles in the world today,

these tears are

just a seeker’s trail,

her heartstrings journey


through ancient time

til’ now,

her still waters,

living waters,

still waiting to be found.


Punalu`u, cloud reflection in tidal pool

Punalu`u, cloud reflection in tidal pool

Taste the moss,

Steep the leaves,

Grate the bark,

Pound the essence with a stone,

In a wooden bowl made of tree, and sky, and earth.

We are the healers of our own souls,

Caretakers, travelers of our own worlds,

But have we found that all paths lead

To the one called truth,

That awakens before dawn

In the touch of another’s hand, in the corridors of eyes

Vibrant with life, and color, and movement

We are our own reflections of each other

In tidal pools, in water and stone texture,

Elements reaching together,

A collective consciousness,

Despite worlds,

And beyond conflicts to a calm place,

Open and still,

Stones absorbing heat and clatter,


And ready to be thrown back

To the sea,

The source from whence we all came.



© Karen K.L. Espaniola     June 11, 2013



living to live


I feel the air entering me,

Exulting me,

Traveling to every cell,

Sharing every memory

Brought in by the wind

Of trees and plants and buds,

And earth

Thriving to thrive,

Breathing to connect.

We are cells within cells within cells

In a universe calling out to be heard

In the fluidness of our own motion

In the recyclable patterns of our own  myths,

Alive in our own recollection,

Living to live.


KKLE June 2, 2013

© Karen K.L. Espaniola


LoveLoveLoveLoveLove                                            Completely

SacrificeSacrificeSacrificeSacrificeSacrifice       Letting go of self

SpiritSpiritSpiritSpiritSpirit                                      Entering unattached

MindMindMindMindMind                                         With no visceral ulterior

EnergyEnergyEnergyEnergyEnergy                     Motivation to preserve

LandLandLandLandLand                                           Richness of life and

FoodFoodFoodFoodFood                                          Health, culture, identity.

LandFoodEnergyMindSpiritLoveSacrifice         Where does it all begin

LandFoodEnergyMindSpiritLoveSacrifice         When it is all infused together,

LandFoodEnergyMindSpiritLoveSacrifice          There is no beginning or end,

LandFoodEnergyMindSpiritLoveSacrifice          Permeated for all eternity,

LandFoodEnergyMindSpiritLoveSacrifice          With all that matters,

LandFoodEnergyMindSpiritLoveSacrifice          With all that inspires

LandFoodEnergyMindSpiritLoveSacrifice          In a timeless circle.









(c) Karen K.L. Espaniola 2013, All Rights Reserved

Letting Go

Letting go is not an easy thing to do,

to let your voice be carried away in waves,

and allow the rain to fall in empty fields.

Let me return to the forest to find an embankment deep,

a humus of soil and rotting leaves of winter

to wait for snow,

where glances of sun through rough tree bark

will find me by the frozen creek,

and warm me once again

in my solitude.

KKLE    May 26, 2013

(c) Karen K.L. Espaniola 2013, All Rights Reserved

To Be The One

I step carefully into predawn,

Blades of grass damp with night,

Blossoms still soft with sleep, parting,

Horizon blushing with pale color, breaking

free of darkness,

Every blade, every leaf turns toward you waiting,

Silhouettes of nature fluttering

in anticipation of you

And I, Seeking that still moment more than anything

Knowing that every second the sun rises,

Every moment purple shadows recede,

Every feather, stone, or discolored flower from the day before,

Every thought unheard, or unseen, waits to be experienced by you,

And I want to be the one,

The one there in that moment,

When every fragrance, every sound,

Every fluttering leaf and whispering wind

Calls your name and shines for you.

I want to be that gift-giver of beauty,

To hold you with a beauty you have never felt before,

Want to capture your sapphire eyes,

Draw you to me, passionately, and achingly,

To be the one,

The one awake,

The one beside you when your eyes open to all that awaits you,

I want to gather all that has been, all that will be, all that can be

Into a timeless dance of unbelievable light, for you,

But I have only my words to make your heart pulsate in soft rhythms,

And sometimes words aren’t good enough,

For I am but an observer of your light, a reflection of your beauty,

And you are the one who must come to me,

When you want,

In that still moment,

And rise together.

KKLE May 25, 2013

(c) Karen K.L. Espaniola 2013, All Rights Reserved

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© Karen K.L.Espaniola and hinarising.com. 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Karen K.L. Espaniola and hinarising.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.