Fire, tired lantern of the night,
shadow fireflies,
cosmic ray, the silence of
think... Let there be light
in all its forms in all
their ghosts.
In the chess player's master move
on the cosmo board.
The city brain thinks
for the millions of souls
that inhabit it, therefore, infinities
of ideas spring from its streets
neurotic.
The urban neurosis does not leave you
thinking, it consumes your ideas
on your flight.
I live in the heart of a neighborhood
humble, from a town embedded
between the edge of the forest
and colorless waters.
Cause and effect to search for space,
the calm of the afternoon, the peace of a
reading, the insipid silence becomes
sweet on your lips, invisibility
it becomes touch in your living body.
Oxygen circulates filling my lungs,
the distant piano smiles in the living room
of a church.
In the distance, tolls are torn
of bronze, like flights of birds
crossing the time barrier
on the imaginary line of a verse.
Like a thought in the void
of memory, like a hug
uninhabited, as cause without love
like a poem without a soul.
The silence makes me think... grass sprouts
in the dryness of my eyes!
It makes the ink of my verses bloom
and may they live in the breath of the world.