Patagonia & Hopeful Humanity

What is this mysery?

Frozen piece of earth,

with lives huddled together on its slender finger turned toward Antarctica.

Who are these mysteries?

Long eyebrows and faces pressed together even in the streets, asking me questions and hesitantly demonstrating the English that was handed to them in high school.

Who am I amidst these mysteries?

…These were questions I asked myself as I drove for hours to reach Coyhaique, a city in Patagonia. I never imagined myself so close to the turning of the globe, to the tip of South America!

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I was there for four full days and experienced the rich culture within the Chilean family of my friend and hosts. The past 3 weeks here in Temuco have been challenging. Trying to figure out communication, how to be me, how to thrive regardless of what goes on around me, all when I don’t know how to take out the trash or what the hell to eat…phew! Culture adjustment is a whirlwind: life with Chile up until my time in Coyhaique had been more of a wrestling match than a love affair.

Then I breathed some mountain air & sat in the fire light of an accepting and warm culture.

My soul exhaled.

When my soul exhales, I tend to write poems ūüôā Enjoy, dear ones.

 

The Taste of Human Hope

 

Life in Chile has a cheesecake flavor,

every bite silk against the tongue, chased by purple wine.

 

Housekeepers and brooms twirl in kitchens,

radios playing the tune of each caramelo swirl.

 

Mamás and Papás, grandmas and their babies tuck themselves into corners

while the whole thing stops for lunch.

 

Children bounce between gentle arms:

the community choreographs an artistic ritual of mild annoyance.

 

Birds with dry rubber bands in their throats ride updrafts to the base

of mountains bigger than I have seen before, as dogs nobody owns sniff my skirt hem.

 

Weak orange street lights draw lines in the evening haze,

dull silver knives massaging cheese and sweet sauces onto fresh buns.

 

Behind curtains cheeks are kissed, tables set with white clothes, tea cups, and small spoons,

weapons against the agitation of winter.

 

It seems that Chileans fight the frigidity I feel with sparks of loving invitations to dinner,

by tenderly cutting their salami and cheese sandwiches in half.

 

Tall trees frame the moon with crusty silhouettes. Under the clouds, in front of the velvet sky,

the star Love gave me winks mischievously.

 

Esperanza, Hope;

I am a child yet she is my winter light daughter.

 

Let us lie in the arms of one another,

first born of each other,

 

as I stand amidst the cold night air

and you pin back the blackness.

 

 

 

Hugs & hope,

Lydia Nomad

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Wonderprints

It is truly no wonder that the God of the universe’s Isaiah 45 mantra is:
…none besides me; I am the Lord and there is no other…
What a God. Mid my (“training wheel fast”) restricted diet, I pant desperately for Him, & He subtly lets me know He is near. Gracious & merciful, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast LOVE, my Lord leaves fingerprints: a bread-crumb trail for me to follow (into His arms).
Thank you, God, for the pre-class conversation when my friend of 2 years asks if I party, asks about my faith. (God hears my prayers, He wants to give me opportunities to share Him; to point up there! up there!)
Thank you, God, for the moon hanging, like an egg yolk against deep navy felt, low behind me that I barely caught a glimpse of in the rear-view. It said to me, He is here.
Thank you, God, for the dimple your fingerprints left on this sin-crashed world in the shape of that North star, once leading brothers & sisters towards the hope of free lives. (Let us never stop hoping in free lives!)
Thank you, God, that when Your Spirit prompts me to pray over one Pei Wei employee, & I OBEY, we are blessed & hugs are exchanged.
Thank you, God, for the breath-taking stillness of moonlight against an ice manna carpet, muffled snow sounds, and crisp air that paints my exhales stark before my face.

Thank you, God, for your sublime ((Southern)) seasons that remind us how imminent winter-death is, and how utterly essential it is that we find spring-LIFE by seeking You now.