Thinking…

I found myself
sitting on the sand
at imaginary hours of the night
like a soldier in his sentry box
the watchman’s guard.

Watching its mesmerising calm
for its calm tranquillity clinging
the sea in all its reflective splendour
with all its plural immensity.

In an unstable state
for being an ignorant
to make a mockery
to something so important…
The interrogation disarmed me.

The inclusive quagmire
was excessive, growing
and the flowery garden
was a thorny path.

In front of me
… My confessor
temporary recondite
of urgent priority.

Sensual rhythms
soft
like spiritual sighs
welcome in stealth
unheard primogenital whispers
vital discernment
between mouth and ear.

Speak…
Listen…
Be silent…
Keeps a prudent distance.
He knows his job
the situation
the moment
the place where the crosswords
the crosswords
the soul is released
the static body
like a lizard in the desert
while
temple and heart
life partner
between the two…
They whip the swarm
They conspire
They design
They organise.

This time…
Serious countenance
like a sphinx
without showing
no alteration
that gives a clue
a fine thread
from which to weed
the embryo of a
swampy pond.

Words
sentences…
Without meaning
without understanding
without showing
a small glimpse
of the depth
of the conspiracy.

Who asks…
Who counts…
Both…
All at once and in unison
begin the talk
mixing words
phrases
ideas
with meaning
with meaning
a compass
an organisation
a spark of imagination.

Like a heavenly choir
they both whistle the same
in a singular rhythm
in identical space-time
in unison… The echo oozes.

Freed from the quagmire
so watery
by wear and tear
by the effort
to redirect
the stupidity
after the master’s «faena».

From the paradigm
an equation comes out
… Simple
chord
with what they both
were silent…
Neither dared
to speak
for not being an executioner
for not being a victim.

A consensus…
They look at each other
turning to
to continue the observation
of the sepulchral calm
after the debate
turned into an icy undertow.

Without realising it
the frozen soul
the petrified body
… The night
the moon
the stars…
Time frolicking.

And a brave bottle sails
with a unique cargo
A piece of paper
With a simple question
And brown eyes
That accompany its own gaze…

O.