Letters to the Moon....

A few weeks ago I met a fellow author, Candice Terry. She reviews books as well, and has a blog on which she features a different author every day.   Candice asked me if I would like to be featured on her blog. I of course said yes. Today is the day. Today, May 30, 2013, I am the author of the day on Candice’s blog.   Please click the links below, to see my story on Candice’s blog, and the link for Candice’s page on Facebook. Thank you so much Candice, for featuring authors on your blog. You help other writers in a way that cannot be described. Thank you for your generosity. © Esperanza Habla All Rights Reserved http://youbeenbloggedcram.blogspot.com/2013/05/ezperanza-habla-author-of-day.html?spref=fb https://www.facebook.com/#!/AbsolutePowerSeries?fref=ts Photo courtesy of Kristen Pugh Photography https://www.facebook.com/KristenPughPhotography 

Many things have changed in the last week, in the lives of many of my friends. Some of the changes were joyous and exciting, some terrifying and sorrowful. All were life altering. I do not like negative changes. Many of us feel that way. Often we do not like change because we are challenged by it. It takes us out of our comfort zones; it shows our lack of control. It is an uncomfortable realization. All of the changes in the lives of my friends, be they joyful or sorrowful, were equal in their intensities. Hearing all of these life altering changes proved to be too much for me. I found that I had to disconnect from the world for an hour or two, and recharge my personal energies. At first, I felt overwhelmed, hearing about the sorrowful, terrifying changes my friends had experienced. I felt powerless to help them in their time of need. But I was not powerless at all. I did the only thing I could do for my friends-I listened and I prayed. Things will happen to us in our

Once you meet a true writer, you know. You can tell by the way they speak. They speak in poetry. Sonorous words drip from their tongues like succulent honey. Their words are notes in a glorious symphony. Some poets and authors write to express themselves. Other authors write for their readers. Others write because they have to. That’s what we do. Writers write. For me, when I write poetry, it is to express myself, to talk about things that are important to me, or to discuss an issue I’m passionate about.   I am also writing my first novel: “Samantha”. When I write in the book, it is different. I am writing it because I have a story to tell. I have more stories in my head right now. I hope to tell all of my stories. I hope to thus, one day, be a professional storyteller. I do not write melodies or speak in poetry. One could argue therefore that I am not a true writer. I challenge that thought. I was born with this gift, and only discovered it three years ago. I am an appren

Being a poet has been a very eye opening experience for me. I have met many fellow artists in my writing career, from a myriad of art forms. I recently had a conversation with a friend of mine, a photographer, who has pages for her photography business in various social media outlets. We spoke about art and promoting oneself as an artist. She made the point that she occasionally feels that, posting her latest work on her photography page, makes her feel that others will view her as being self-involved or self-obsessed; in reality, nothing could be further from the truth. Listening to her voice these concerns made complete sense to me. I have felt this way upon occasion. It is a delicate balance, to let people know about your art, your latest pieces, what you’re currently working on, and what projects you will launch in the future, and to not be thought of as being self-involved. Too often, responses from posts can act as a form of validation. It’s almost like the artist is ju

This morning, while running an errand, I saw two Canada geese walking across the road. A line of cars quickly formed behind the geese, who were dawdling on their way. They were not in any hurry to cross that road.  It was amusing to see all of the cars lined up, stopped in the road, for two Canada geese. While watching the geese cross, and the growing line of cars, I thought to myself, “Why would geese be here? There’s no water nearby. Why would the geese be here ?” In a moment I would have my answer. I arrived at my destination and found myself looking at a truly adorable sight. Just ahead, behind a gas station, in a patch of grass, I saw two adult Canada geese and about 12 goslings. The goslings were adorable. They were very little, with fluffy grey feathers. They were almost little fluff balls with beaks sticking out.  Now I knew why the Canada geese had been crossing the road; they were en route to their babies, who were close by, being watched by friends or relative

"My Day" An internal monologue (Yawn) Oh, I am exhausted. I barely got any sleep. Stupid kittens. No, I should not say that. I love the kittens. I just do not love the hours they keep. Let me go feed them….. I am so tired. Well, I should get ready for work. Let me get my bath water started….. Oooh, this hot water feels so good. It is so restorative. I could stay in here all day. Darn it, I was going to wash my hair. Maybe I still can, if I lean back in the water….. Ohhhhhh, this feels so good. It feels good to float in the water. I could stay here all day. I hear my heartbeat in my ears; it reverberates through the water. This is beyond luxurious. I could stay here all day. (yawn) But I can’t. There are things I need to do. (yawn) I’d better get ready for my day. © Esperanza Habla All Rights Reserved http://www.letsleepingblogslie.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/iStock_000015534533XSmall_thumb.jpg

As I have written before, I have two kittens, Kit and Caboodle. The two kittens are almost a year old. It is fun to watch them play together, sometimes wrestling, sometimes galloping through the house as if they were wild stallions. I love to see them interact together, teach each other things, cuddle with each other. Yesterday, I bought the kittens some new toys. One of the toys I bought is a plastic wand with a long strip of fabric on the end of it. To play with it, the human waves the wand and the piece of fabric moves on the floor (or through the air). The cat then follows the piece of fabric and plays with it, as if it is a snake or similar animal. It brings out their hunting instincts, and is a natural form of play. I brought the toy out for the kittens to play with. To my shock, they were terrified; they ran and hid under the bed. It did not take me long to figure out why they were afraid-they had never seen a toy like that before. I spoke to them in a calming tone

Have you ever wondered how you got where you are? Have you ever wondered how your people arrived where you are now? Have you ever wondered about your ancestry? Your heritage? Your lineage? Shortly after I was born I was adopted. My parents are of Scottish/Irish/English ancestry. When they adopted me,  I adopted their ancestry. Many adopted children grow up to be adults that want to find their birth parents.  I don’t blame someone for wanting to do that, to find the parents that gave birth to them. But it is not for me.  I have seen many shows on television dealing with ancestry, finding links throughout the world through DNA, (Deoxyribonucleic acid), the building blocks of life. http://blogs-images.forbes.com/daviddisalvo/files/2011/11/DNA.jpg Since seeing these shows, I have wanted to do this myself. This year for my birthday one of my sisters gave me a voucher for a DNA kit. The company in question divides the world into 5 regions (instead of the 7 continents.)

(A letter to the moon) Hello Luna, my dear friend. I saw you at my window the other night. That was so sweet of you to come and give me comfort. Somehow you always know when I need you. You are always there for me. Did you hear my news? I formed my new company! I named it after you. It seems only right, given our special bond. There certainly is a strong bond between us. How did that happen? Well, I know how it happened-I fell in love with a man who loved you. I came to know you through him and grew to love you too. But it is not just with me; you have a strong bond with many. I have heard tell of people staring at you for hours, even to the point of lunacy. Maybe they are enraptured by your beauty. But, that cannot be all of it. You are like us; your true beauty lies within.   I have heard people say that you are a mirror, reflecting our own inner beauty back to us. I have also heard that when people look at you, they see the thing or person they most love. (I have to