miércoles, septiembre 10

If I fell




...como sabes, alguna vez, me encontré en una situación similar. La cuestión es que los caminos lo eligen a uno, y no es al revés. Al final solo queda la poesía, como intento último por comprender qué fue lo que pasó. Creo que después del paso del tiempo, uno tiene muy presente aquel instante en el que decidimos arrojarnos al vacío, sin saber consecuencias, ni razones. Creo que ahí es donde realmente el amor existe como invención, sabiendo que el amor es imposible. Aunque siempre queda la incertidumbre, la extrañeza. ¿Es verdad que existimos durante esa breve eternidad que perpetúa el entramado deseo-amor?...

...que la poesía sea la que siembre el silencio...


_____________________________




The drop of the water clock,
the sweet sound of a chime,
as I sit here pondering,
yet another passage of rhyme.
Did I merely exist,
for that one moment in time?

The mind drifts upon a sea of silence,
held within life's confining space.
For one second I knew it all,
blindly after that happiness I race.
For one moment in time it was so clear,
then it was gone without a trace.

Causing me to wonder if it was a dream,
if this pain I feel is only in my mind.
Leaving me to question my heart,
seeking answers I'll never find.
Did it merely exist,
for that one moment in time?

So much of ourselves we gave,
Our joys, our happiness, our fears and doubts,
was this not what we were taught?
I found in one moment in time all I am,
my love yet held captive, firmly caught.

As I wallow deeper in the brine,
I have made with one eternal tear,
I cling to life with every breath,
yet frozen motionless by my desire,
that I shall be forced to dream against my being,
that one moment in time which I hold so dear.

The heart breaks and slowly crumbles,
the ashes of love becoming dust so fine,
I lock myself away within my cell of blue,
as if I were guilty of some senseless crime,
because I dared to give my love,
for one single moment in time.


Mizpah


1 comentario:

Anónimo dijo...

La noche siempre será poesía, mi poesía en tí... Instantes nocturnos, etéreos, recuerdos perpetuos al deseo eterno.