Out of Light

Gabi in Motion

I keep looking at my Gabi
flowing though the safe spaces of our home
with freedom and unattainable grace
I realize, as I have many times before,
that her beauty cannot be confined
to a single frame
That it lives in displacement
In the movement
of her face, her eyes, her body
In how her legs became longer in motion
than any rational measure of space can ascertain
In how the fleeting expressions
of her eyes illuminate her face
In how the smile can never be pinned down
to any single point in time,
but belongs wholly to the entirety of its trajectory

To see her moving is to realize
she is made out of light

So I look at her, mesmerized
Yearning to hold her in my arms
To be held in her eyes
But she lands briefly on me
like a beam – and like a beam she leaves
I am left only with my empty hands
and the memory of something extraordinary
Something cherished
like the memory of water is to a thirsty traveller
An intangible gift, ultimately satisfying:
the essence of a life lived in love
like a religious experience

The beginning of the end

The beginning of the end

A song/poem by Victor Alejandro Wainer. Composed in 2025, recorded in 2026 in Victoria, BC.

The beginning of the end

Which star is that? They shared their wonder with each other
It is so bright, breaking through the cloudy cover!
They stared in silence
Awed by its beauty
Without knowing they had seen
the beginning of the end

Look at the star, said the mother to the infant
How bright it is, clutching baby to her chest
She had a feeling
this was important
Without knowing she had seen
the beginning of the end

See that shiny star? He called out over his shoulder
Look how bright it is, said his friend coming to join him
They stared together
their games forgotten
Without knowing they had seen
the beginning of the end

That will be your star, said the wife to her sick husband
Much too bright for me, he replied with a soft chuckle
And he passed away
While she shut the curtains
Without knowing she had seen
the beginning of the end

The beginning of the end

The Maps of Men

She fought slept under the white sheets
Parts of her flesh rebelling
Against the straight lines
Of their moonlit bed

He dreamt up a map
Of her unexplored territories
Knowing full well there wouldn’t be
Enough time to visit them all

“If only I had more time”
He though – and then he smiled
“She’d have more lands to explore,
She’s endless”

The sheets fluttered and levitated
A white arm appeared beneath them
Searching for him
So he went back in, to chart some more.

We map what we love,
our countries, our homes, our bodies
And we also map what we fear,
The infinite oceans of the earth and sky

That is why we map women
In our paintings, our poems, our songs
We map to find the way
From us to them, and back,
And back again.

Victor Alejandro Wainer,
Victoria, BC, 1st of January, 2024

Cheshire Cat

Like a Cheshire Cat, I waltzed into your life:
all smile and very little substance
You did not reject, flee, or retreat
Instead you taught me

You said “I believe in you”
I said “Thanks” – slowly materializing…