by Iolanda Scripca

I don’t have time to watch it more
- the crooked clock of ironed past -
I don’t believe I can feel spring
Unless I grab your hand and jump

Together in the blossom maze
Perhaps we bring ourselves alive
In poison-free redwoods up north
And secret Jacaranda wonders.

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by Iolanda Scripca

San Diego, CA
Two weeks ago I had to put on wings of courage and fly from San Diego to Bucharest, Romania.

A stage of my life has ended abruptly, not once but twice within a very short period of time: My Parents.

The entire innocence of the snowdrops flowers from my childhood Cismigiu Park was crushed under the feet of a woman with dark hair, so dark that the sunrise dies at the beginning of each day for all the beautiful souls.

I went back to Cismigiu Park after twenty years and looked up and down the alleys to see my Dad walking back home from work at the National Radio Station. He caressed my hair and I started giggling. I turn quickly so I can hug him…but my Dad had hands of winter storm.

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by Iolanda Scripca

San Diego

The freeway was empty that time of morning.We jumped in the car with an anticipated giddiness and headed towards Dana Point, California, at about 45 minutes distance from our house. The sun was playing hide-n-seek along the Pacific ocean either blinding us shortly and rhythmically from behind the vacation homes or elongating our shadows into abstract but childish caricatures. Santa Ana winds changed their minds midway; probably exhausted of so much destruction and fires fed by them few weeks ago in the San Diego area.

We boarded the modern Catalina Express, one of the speedboats available in the Southern California harbors such as: Dana Point, Long Beach, San Pedro, Newport Beach and Marina del Rey and said “Good bye” to the so familiar coast which, now, was becoming smaller, faster and faster, in the deafening mixture of sirens, engines, cumulus clouds and the immense blue color of the Pacific in winter. I felt I was in the artistic world of Wyland, in which herds of white horses crash as waves against the rocky Californian coast, in which the beauty of this spherical planet was not only divided into two worlds but also combined into a beautiful poem of Earth and underwater life.  [Read more →]