You have to give her poetry.
You have to place poetry in some containers.
Perhaps in small vessels filled with phrases and words.
Perhaps in slightly deep almond bowls with bits of verse.
Spread poetry like tiny lagoons of fresh water.
Distribute them as drinkers throughout the living space.
Disperse the content all over the place and let it smell.

She will come to quench her thirst.
Just like free-flying birds.
Those who go from here to there in the field.
They look for calm in the shadows of the caldén, the carob tree and the chañar.
Or they intertwine in the flowering aromas.
They look for the fresh water that leaves the dew and has not killed the sun.
This is how they quench her thirst. Then they fly again.
In low flights, in unexpected ascents and in unexpected dives.
She is the same in the early morning and late afternoon.

If you want to see her, feel her flight.
Wait… Wait for her and imagine that she will land near you
You just have to put some poetry.
In little pitchers and bowls
Properly distributed around the place.
So that she can quench her thirst.
She is a free bird who drinks poetry in small sips and sometimes, maybe a couple of drinks. No more.
Leave the poetry scattered around the place.
Never in full sun. Better under a bower.
Only then will you see it up close. You will feel the proximity of her.
You will see her happy.
After quenching her thirst.
Sometimes she whistles and strings harmonies.
Just to break the monotony of the plain
It's just music that springs from the poem
That she just took.

She is like a free bird that flies like a woman.