Sunday, March 6, 2016

A passage of light

Sunday afternoon drums its weight on my balcony,
Spring crawling through the cracks of the windows,
light carving its way through our pores.

Someone decided it was slightly cloudy,
the rays of the sun reflected on my dog´s amber eyes
bathing her with the whispers of the upcoming storm

Yet the rain has not come, still we dwell on the daze
Inert steps, invisible in the vaporous wavy sky,
happiness flirts with your big blue eyes

I touch the void before my breath,
with trembling fingers in search for the rain
but still won´t come, warm and lazy as your smile

I meet the web of newborn spiders, soft and weak
and yet so splendid, sticky, shining threads
of a change that will last indeed
its owner greets me with its gracious walk,
my skin takes its newest trail

One, two, even three big drops fall at last.
My spider hides, the big fly jumps, my dog barks
at the running black cat that leaves its branchy bed
making the slender birds rise in an instant voice

Four, five, even six more transparent stains
cover the balcony, but the light still reigns
no sight of gloom, the dark is silent,
hope caresses her, keeps her calm, sings to her

My bass is soft, it mirrors your watery walk
seven, eight and even nine just fell,
I keep my touch on the strings of iron
clinging to the mast of the stable wood,

A branch of a tree, greeting the wind´s melody
a day to sleep in, a nature kiss to dream of
steering my life into your welcoming hug
deep into a new blossoming slumber