Juan Olivarez

Happiness is being home again,
Happiness is walking in the rain.
Happiness is waking with no pain.
...

After all is said and done,
What are we?
Are we gold or silver,
Or a sparkling diamond in the rough?
...

I hear your voice,
Anytime,
Of the day or night.
...

I had a dream, that I could fly,
On gossamer wings, in the clear blue skies.
Floating above the Earth below,
Going where the air currents chose to go.
...

A dream just died,
Wasted away.
A long time it cried,
It hoped to stay.
...

I saw God today, on a mountain high,
As the wind blew through my hair.
I saw God today in the clear blue sky,
I felt small and humble there.
...

I'd rather be fishing, Than talking to you,
At least when I'm fishing, I know what to do.
I'd rather hold a blue gill in my hand,
Than get hit on the head, with a frying pan.
...

It was a million years ago,
We walked on the beach at Padre.
Scattering the sand crabs as we went,
And dodging the blue jellyfish,
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At first I couldn't get enough,
Now I just can't make it stop.
No rain in the desert that was rough,
Around here there's no dry spot.
...

A vast endless sea of sand beyond
The blue grey hills, bathed in the sun
Creosote bushes dot the line
Of a bleak horizon, where heat waves shine
...

A poet's words,
Are a vaccine,
For all the world's ills.
...

I've been in the desert for so long now,
I've missed my home and my only friend.
And now I sit here, asking myself how,
My heart can break, as my days here end.
...

Even the stars, at long last die,
And when they do, fall from the sky.
Such is the case with a human heart,
Built imperfect, from life departs.
...

He stretched his wings, then drank his fill.
From the earthen saucer on the stand.
I looked at him, with a joyous thrill,
He was just four feet, from my right hand.
...

Once he was young, and strong.
Once he would dare anything, do anything.
Climb mountains, swim rivers, mighty rivers,
To find the American Dream.
...

A blue bottle landed on my nose,
While a poem I attempted to compose.
It wiggled it's legs and cleaned it's wings,
And did so many other things.
...

Every morning I wake I see you through my window,
Hot, unforgiving, mysterious, and so beautiful.
As I lie here in my bed, I hear your call in my head.
The call to the washes, and the canyons, and the creosote bushes,
...

Happiness to me, is sleep without dreams,
It's to lie lost to all and to the world
It's my internal alarm ringing on time
It's awakening refreshed and strong
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One people, so many bloods.
The Hispanic people against the odds.
European, Asian, dark as the night,
Blond and blue eyed, exceedingly white.
...

I see faces
In the clouds.
I hear voices
In the wind.
...