What abounds does not reveal.
on the tree, lonely, the plum that has survived the storm
is photographed,
taken by delicate hand
and carried on a litter to the warmth of the home.

But, if after the storm, the same tree
would have kept the word and the totality of
plums,
the farmer would have passed by
without raising any camera towards the fruit,
nor adorn any basket with light.
What abounds the eye does not see.

In the intimate human retina
-God or stardust-
He has placed
strategically
a device, a premise: the eye will not know
see what overflows.

That is why the hand is always groping the
air and closes in the deep emptiness of the
days his blind fingers, he knows that if he touches
a petal, a hummingbird, a heart, must
take the wing gently
and stick it on the skin
that bristles and sees better than the eye.