a red sunrise
and a silent moon
greeting each other
from opposite ends
of the firmament
announcing a sort of balance
a tightrope
stretched out between planets
to walk on
if awareness
allows
destruction
a night haunted
by sleeplessness and mosquitoes
under waves of heat
rolling over the already dry land
softening the structure of the bones
melting the structures of the mind
the moon stands over the golden treetops
still indifferent
to the tides
of human nature
patiently waiting for mankind
to cease its enterprise
of destruction
perfection
there is no such thing
as a perfect world
though there might be a choice
to live in the light
or in eager to pursue
that perfect world
which has never been anything else
than a powerful illusion
to nourish the weaknesses
of the heart
and weakening the power
of the soul
something
greeted by a lonesome fox
inspecting yesterdays work
under a clear blue sky
looking satisfied with what has been done
pleased with the circumstances which
despite the poor state the fox is in
seems to please him
there is something in this place
reaching beyond the actual state
sometimes more present than others
but always there
quietly running below
even the most insistent of droughts
nourishing the deeper layers
of life
the land of peaceful dreams
awakening from far away
in the land of peaceful dreams
into a minefield of emotions
all ready to blow into explosion
by the slightest misstep
wishing only to return
to the land of peaceful dreams
where no pain
reigns
yet vaults after vault of despair
seems to unfold by every step
away from the land of peaceful dreams
fear has caught up with every member of the body
the brain in a state of constant alert
until
an inspiration to stop for a second
before the first bomb blows
falls into consciousness
like a tender embrace of a mother’s arms
closing the eyes
to walk inwards
bringing what is left behind
from the passage through the land of peaceful dreams
to the surface
observing with wonder
the enfoldment of silent light
nightmare
awakening into an overheated brain
and old behavioural patterns
seems more than anything
than awaking into a nightmare
with the growing darkness
devouring a few minutes of daylight
every day
while nature is shrinking
under the drought
pushing even the most hidden vulnerabilities
to the surface
it seems merciless
and endless
but what should not be underrated
is the drying out
of old wounds
only leaving
marks of immaculate beauty
behind
wondering
the re-education of minds
is a meticulous work
perhaps underestimated
perhaps a waste of time
for someone
wishing to live
from the heart
indigestion
flooded by undigested impressions
coming to the surface
from somewhere in the intestines
of the mind
where they have been stored
unknowingly
waiting for the proper moment
to be looked at
the nausea is as real
as any intangible nausea can be
and somehow
it makes no sense to dissect the content of the memories
they are all in pieces
fragments of experiences
that can no longer become whole
no longer tell
a proper story
maybe all there is to do
is to let it surface
in order to leave it behind
liberating space for a proper life
to be lived
from the guts
summer breeze
a silent summer breeze
whispering in the trees
bringing to the surface memories
that has so thoroughly been suppressed
despite the daily price to pay
of an exhausted body
and an overheated brain
a silent summer breeze
whispering in the trees
reminding the attentive one
that it is not by denying the pain
and suppressing its feelings
that joy finds the way
to our hearts
invisible
what a strange night
full of radical changes
in the fields of the mind
changes of constellation
invisible to the world
and so very consequent
to the one
who is
even if silently
exploring
the multiple layers of
what cannot be seen