I come from afar
I measure time...in time
in the clock that splits,
in the waters of no return,
in the escape of the universe,
in every fraction of the number
infinite, in the thousands of steps
traveled.
I live a while still with wings
that hurt when piercing the heart
of nostalgia.
A distant music, the sound of the river,
songs of extinct birds,
an endearing voice, caresses
of some hands and a street that cries
my bare feet
I have developed the pulse of thinking,
a lesson learned since
the confines of a brilliant mind
who affirms that everything that exists
has a pulse
Time... a continuous fall of leaves,
they sway, they fall, they are lifted by the wind,
drags them down unknown paths,
until its transformation into humus,
mixtures of bodies and nature
to nourish the bowels of the earth.
I have opened my heart like a path
I have loved and in my mouth they have left
kisses like floating petals
walker I am from this path
with my head held high.
In this course, a troop of clouds
has crossed the skies, white and gray,
dark intense in the vast night,
afternoons in oil pastel, cycles that
they resemble life.