a day by the lake

A year ago, I arrived in the United States after medical trauma in Peru. JVC, for their own reasons, decided to terminate my term of service at that.

I have not yet told the whole truth of that story to you, but I will soon. Not now, but soon.

Today, a year later, I spent most of the day on the lake shore in Milwaukee. It was a sunny day, the shores were full of people trying to get some sun, excited about the heat and eager for the summer to come. I joined them, eager too for the heat, though it was still too cold for my liking. And it was the first time I think I've seen a beach full of people but with absolutely no one in the water. Weird.

I sat on the sand, moving it between my toes. Friends joined me. Peggy, Tia, Crystassany. Erin couldn't find us but made her own offering. I sang some songs. drew pictures, wrote a little. I offered my last writings in Peru a year ago to the lake. Peggy offered her own poem of the lake's wisdom. Reflecting on the new life that has come, what I wouldn't have learned otherwise, the blessings next to the wounds. A new gift of rose petals from my birthday, the old pills that overpowered me. An offering to the lake, to the God of the lake, the God of creation, from which all things come.

I feel the sun on my back.
I've walked these shores before.
In times of ice
and burning winds.

Then I was here alone.
Now the shores are full, desperate for sun touched skin.
But we still walk with our shoes on.

I don't recognize this place,
though
I have been here before.
Maybe that is the lesson.
To trust myself.


Te quiero, 
Peru. 
The waves wash the first part away. I wait for the lake to touch the second line. It doesn't. The country's name remains. The sun falls and I choose to walk away.