Printfriendly

miércoles, 16 de octubre de 2013

Harvest



Harvest

Like a game you did not like
Because someone should lose
Or as an object, which price
Not everybody could pay.

The kiss and all the afternoon
The flurry in my heart
For the anxiety that has a name
For a challenge in my soul.

The present passes by
In the very moment that happens
Like dust taken by winds
Or a pillar greeted by the air.

Acting in life
Arranging details
The hour that you ignore
Only known to one who waits for it.

Before the error of simulation
Exposing it roughly
Like the meadow and its worms
The subtle life of one who perceives experiencing it.

Everything is as it is
Because death is in each breath
Desperation is underlying every movement
The brave sea in the eternal essence of beings.

And something will remain of happenings
And will be worthwhile to discover
That a part of wood will form the helm
As part of a wave that comes will be part of a storm.

Feeling melancholy is not good
The spider-web of love
Does not combine with light
Illumining someone who searches more than he received.

For the time being, one more cup
The eyes red from peering too much
The feet tired of not being able to catch up
As if it were possible for someone who reaps also sows[1].


[1] John 4:35-38