Meditating on 2014



2014 was a year of deliberate simplicity. Simplifying to make room to be more aware of what’s more valuable and make space for encountering life in the moment, in the name of living towards the higher self. For spiritual maturation — to cultivate the potential within and vibrate higher.

And throughout, with the divine closely knit, the year was what it was. Faith and courage settled in close, and heart moments were full up.

Today, tomorrow, and in the years to come, may we all keep the heart as a place of prayer. May we keep company that will kindle in our tender breasts the desire to keep love’s fire burning. May we not allow anyone to dim or extinguish the fire that keeps our passion alive — our creativity, love, light, heart and purpose. May light, peace and spiritual glory enter our hearts and homes, and inspire our journey to be a year full of revolutionary acts.


Book Art



I want the days of paper letters
heady perfumes of jasmine filled
love notes on paper
postcards of journeys and cities
and write me backs
delighting in anticipation
words of honeyed ink
on paper.
Meantime, your words
embraced by thousands of paper pleats
each honey word
is treasured in its crease .:.

Nature’s Relief


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My mother has always said, let the Almighty’s magic, nature’s beauty linger in memory. Allow the naked eye to capture it. Don’t reduce its beauty by imaging it through canon’s eye. As I respect my Queen’s words, the magic was irresistible. Eternally awe-inspired by nature’s splendor, the purest of human pleasure ::

By its delight to the heart
Its rapture and music
Its civility and equilibrium
Its resilience and patience
Its secret
Its wisdom
…infinite spiritual manifestation

I believe in nature’s poetry
I believe the answers we seek are
in nature’s harmony
in harmony with nature.

What is Africa to Me? (Ode to Countee Cullen)

Design by: Dawit Yitref – for afrodisiaticXpressions © 2013

Cullen’s question:

    What is Africa to me?

Years pass
the question
still glaringly real,

sitting westwards
sprouted like wildflowers
in the summer
the circumstance
a different summer
self-removed from it sprout
its growing parts
its fertile lands
from where love molded its parts
yet still rooted deep
in its black sea
football fields
abundance of love scenes
copper suns
scarlet seas
in the imagination

outside the imagined ethos
metaphorical dreams

I ponder


imitating Cullen’s chase, again,
I ask:
What is Africa to me?

Beyond the defined
Man-made contours
It is
the blood that runs
deep through my veins
to the depth and breadth
of seas
of earth,
to indestructible roots


the answer
years later
to the question,
in another era
the chase
the question
miles away

how to be part of
Africa’s future.

The Mask Wearer’s Dilemma


The immortal dream
of the mortal soul
the dead here beside us
I extend what I know
extension of soul,
I see you and I know
fragments of a soul,
I know
I’ve heard it so
many times
yelled to hollow
the dead here beside us
they know
the mask wearer’s dilemma
they know
how deeply suspicious we are
of our own

they weep
for our poor hearts,

O soul!