Clouds

shared long whites
Particles as beautiful as cold
Of neutral feelings cut out
Such as cellos and melodies
Sometimes the strong wind blows them away…
And stretch them, stretch them, stretch them, stretch them… stretch them… prolong them… disperse them……
Until the breath is the horizon
And without a port there, they stay, on another bank...
Who dresses in dreams.

There are people for whom life is a zero game,
Every sunrise, a sunset,
At each birth, one death,
Every hello, goodbye,
With each confession, a misunderstanding,
With every spell, a disenchantment.

But with every hand that is touched, new life.
With each disenchantment, a new corner
Every corner, renewed charm
With each suffering, a teaching
With each circuit broken, a friendly port
With every lie, a defense in crystalline drop
In each silence, a melody

And with every pain, love
For each blank sheet, poem
For each star, heat
With every spell, a pityless departure

Clouds are neutral, don't feel,
And so, they are happier than sad,
Because being neutral is being in the middle.

Enjoy.

I Dream

I Dream. With a bright day, round as the world,

with the seas bowing to the horizon,

with the dragonflies taken to the sea, taken by the wind,

that between tides it takes them to fly over the waters,

and me dreaming of dolphins that jump higher,

than memories, than distant mountains.

I Dream. With seaweed, that fraternally my feet involve,

like someone who embraces someone who is loved, as a calling,

and I Dream of dives in surface waters where

water music and Balearic sounds mix

with shrimp hormones and UV from the sun

in the colors of the corals ... that Dream of the day.

I surf these big Dreams ...

I Dream. With skies of hope, which are reflected in stones,

creations of art, insects, flying low, in Dreams,

and with black spiders hanging from precipices.

I Dream. With the warm air in the sky, soft as a burning life

and I hear footsteps on land, crackling, on grass,

my steps to the river,

where I get on a raft and paddle, paddle ...

I go on and on, among alders, undulating,

and splashes of cold, green water.

And finally, beyond the last corner of the river:

again the sea ... again to embrace somebody,

again we Dream…

Note: In a day of climate strike.

Enjoy.