sábado, 10 de diciembre de 2011

Starting and traveling

Starting and traveling

With three serpents besides me
To talk about cracks and feelings
I write your personal time of expectation
So that it never belongs to me.

Greeting the golden bowl
That without being the same each day
Accompanies your unique variation
That each day is unrepeatable inevitably

I dare to close my eyes
In the middle of the show
In which the force is measured
For the way it generates

And I agree, as if it depends on me,
To the process of vanity
For which is placed a grain of sand
Under the sight of someone facing the sea

Since the shore that knows no vessels
To push it until deep into the forest
Where from the tree calls the wood
That arranged could serve as tool.

And the premonition
That everything is lost
That all would have been in vain
That everything will be reduced to eloquence
And that then I could be wrong.

In the midst of weeping
Where all the fish get drown
Able to claim to the entire desert
The least trace of humidity

Somebody who for the desire to enter so much,
Desists to any act that can lead to do it
Giving to the tact the possibility of magic
That only arises from her when abstaining to touch

So that what exists can reflect without fear of rejection
Something that could have been worse
And to itself is appointed
As starting point and not as a way already started.