Thursday, November 02, 2006

The blessed peaceful warrior





You ask me to write




To create




    To lure you with a tale






To enchant you with poetry and imagination




To seduce you with magic and wonder





And I look at you



And I see my reflection in your eyes



And I feel like Gustavo Adolfo



When asked about the true nature of poetry



And I am blank



Hypnotized?



Blind as a bat that has just been hit by sunlight



Your eyes shine



Your lips ask



Your hands fly



Your skin –a radiation- melts the freezing cold of my bones



Inside you



Life



Love



Passion



Courage



Knowledge



I look at you again



And for your amusement



I admit



I am



            defeated



how is it possible I wonder



to create something



astonishing



wonderful



suggesting



surprising



hypnotizing





r i g h t b e f o r e y o u ?




not as a mere poet’s whim



it’s just …



              that I can’t




I look into your eyes again



And I can see the fire in your heart



I can feel with every single cell of my skin



    Your connection



        to the Greatest Name



        Your passion



            to serve



              Your love



                to the Ancient Beauty



Life!



Within you



In you



Inside you



And suddenly



    The flame in your heart



          as magma bursting out of a volcano...



sparkles in your eyes !



service


art


systematization


consultation



now …



you are boiling



I give the world a glace




And the world



    Cold



      Ignorat



    Unaware



    Distant



    Lost…



      can



          not



              see



                  you



but this ancient poet’s heart can



I



See




Feel



Sense




And some times




Breathe you




The volcano of your eyes cools of now



Ans the world is still blind





You?



You are still there



As a fellow warrior



ready to go into battle




for we know



this battle will pass



and come no more



brave



sturdy



ready



we must be



I look at you



And I smile




I can not write



Not with you standing there



Before me



much better you come



to march



besides me

into battle



you smile



a poem?



Gustavo Adolfo Becquer smiles at me from the hallway



I can’t



Poetry is you

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