A man sealed his lips
For every word that not included him
And he has decided to start tomorrow
Toward the land where all has surrendered.
Delivering as it should be
For the good sense of his will
Accepting the deficiency of the elements
When he fell and touched dust with his forehead for the first time.
During the plague and after the recovery of certain victims
Making the books and battles their permanent home
Weakening absences and pieces that did not fit
Continually groping the distance between two moments
Without the belief that defends the devoted
With the indefinable such as duty
And not as a yoke that releases from responsibilities
Going along many paths that show the different possibilities.
Sinking his sandals in the slippery sand
Adapting the soles of his feet to the rock
Flexible to the future and strong in the present
Denying to his heart all intention of false calm.
Explaining his story
Narrating it among strangers
Without any apparent purpose
And without the opinion of any disciple
Or the pressure of any master
Although he was always dreaming of a sunset
That occurs step by step
Complying with the extreme reality of returning
Seeming as it arises even more than any possible comprehension
When at the door they are still awaiting you
Having the purpose to leave
That in some way it indicated his return
So that in any part of the path
Certainty was abandoned for vanity
And then suspicious would be confirmed
Rather than forging hope in the most virtuous
For someone who already lives through faith.