Practicing with shadows
Feeling the body
Appreciating the emptiness.
The scent of desire
Over full goblets
The heart and the clouds
Connected to the eyes that observe.
Behind the door, the afterwards
For the tragedy of one who knows
And the one who would have to live
And avoid giving awards to the impotent.
In only one moment of attention
Where years of effort are created
The patience and enthusiasm
The faith and reason, shoulder to shoulder toward the same thing.
More variables, more intensity
Diverse trees of the same forest
Where they aren’t cut down but sown
Like a child who doesn’t want to empty the sea
But rather attempts to fill it more
Because whether he could accomplish it or not
He feels he can
And for the intent that is enough.
The shelter of chosen words
Less spontaneity for more precision
The knuckles that aren’t beat at beating
To obtain mediate results, but assertive.
Because each minute in which you are aware of your existence
Becomes a commitment, chain or cross
Which you decide will restrict or expand
To access or not the power of clarity
For the means of which, whatever the way was done
There are more of those who were yours
And although the world denied then a little warmness
They continue opening their hands, for the confidence that you will return.
Andrea
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