Listening to the inaudible

Uu Uu Uu

Uu Uu Uu

The owl sings in my language.

What was once inaudible or barely perceived, now echoes in the refuge of my waters. 

It comes from afar, to bring to this present the sounds that harmonize memories.

From the low tone, red, ancestral and seismic U, I appreciate my flat feet, anchored to the earth.

The u vibrates in the connections between the outside and the inside, from the mountains of my native Colombia, in the estate of my origins, to the autumn of this intimate and latent awakening.

The u creates bridges in my tubes, the u makes a radiant, orange, and expansive light flowing to the plains of my womb. Paths that become clear, illuminating the dew of my vase, honoring the fertility that so often gave birth in silence.

I breathe an anticipatory song.  You call me, make me remember myself.

I dance, laugh, play. Fusion. I listen to the meaning of the letters and vowels in my names and surnames. I am.

Here is my lineage sustained in the natural resonance of the wind, which from the top of a lush green with yellow flowers, proclaims my childhood free and wild.

I wish to see you, I follow your U’s. You, who see in the intrinsic shadows of the mist, find me, and I discover you in intuition. You sing what I need to hear.

Now my singing is accompanied by intention, and in frequency with emotions, so that the currents flow, stripping away the stagnation in forgetting me.

I have been deaf to the external noise and to those who shout imposing their discourse; silent to the hustle of the big city, with its avenues distracted by the volume of sleepless appliances.

Even more so, you remain there, suspended between two worlds, that of those who give and those who listen.

You and my voice, an honest bond in day and night chords, expanding. I am no longer prey.

You gift me tunes and claws, and I, alone, and in freedom, and healing, I hoot.