Madrugar (se) To wake oneself up, early

Just before morning,

the devotional act of listening to the world begins.

The wind sleepily stretches the trees,

and the eyes of the forest open.

Each passing minute, the golden light uncovers

a sliver more mystery in the backlit landscapes.

Just before morning,

I ride my bike through town—

ushered in by bats and swallows,

swooping the crescent-shaped shoreline,

uncoiling toward the Talamanca Mountains.

In the disappearing blue light,

I look left in time to see an old man crawl out from under the bar,

clutching his tattered guitar.

In that moment—an orchid, rising from barbed wire.

Beauty so exotic juxtaposed tightly

against the sharpness of night,

and the shadows of the wires.

Our task is not to look for god.

Rather, our task is not to run away in her presence.

To worship at the church of clover and wild strawberries,

and seek out the delicate and disappearing—

the whole of our lives