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In a Cochabamba sky of dry darkness a thousand twinkling stars poke through reminders of peace intended, peace gone, peace hoped for.

The distance between the stars and I cannot be more vast nor clear and yet I will spin a dance with these flares despite this knowledge because I do not trust that which seems, rather am seme with that which I trust. And that is this – to Love is definite and the Beloved cannot be lost in distractions or it is not Love.

As Love grows, so does Hate. Hate birthed by Love tempts us to hate burned by power, and at times the manifestations are not very easily distinguished except by their fruits, which at times are seen only by the unseen.

And so I have found a friend
hidden beneath my abuse.
And my entire life’s aim
must be to take myself away from her,
and with a bravery only possible
by humility –
walk with her through the healing
and let her become
my Confessor
and Spiritual Director.