Heard
from far away a lost whisper of a vague wind,
totally tired of strolling through
my hair.
totally tired of strolling through
my hair.
On
the background,
a
soft saxophone composed another sound;
and in the air,
and in the air,
a
howl to the moon came from deep inside of myself,
intermingling
itself with my thoughts,
surfacing
myself to a blue and ingenuous smile of waning moon.
Frenzied
in desire,
innocent in
life,
unobstructed,
satiated ,
and
incomplete;
occupying
any available space,
crafting
myself amid the multitude and everything else,
teasing
the now,
and
everybody else.
Enduring
from the future the fidelity of the present moment,
and
defying another step;
to
when the strength reaches at its lethargy,
those
sketched scribbles of life may compose all existent moments,
outline
all hearted yearnings;
making like so,
with
the dreams and the reality,
a Symmetry.
Rio – 01/06/1991