quinta-feira, 1 de novembro de 2012

12 - Lenses

Sometimes I don’t know
whether I’m on denial
or sensing the flow
of something vital.

I am a sad person,
unsatisfied with life
by stupidity and conviction.
Melancholy is my vice.

Proudly unhappy,
seeking something else
beyond my shabby
existence in stealth.

So I begin
the strife to be noticed.
Vanity is my sin,
presumption, my acid.

But, now and then,
in spite of this nothingness,
a grain of sand
glows clear, in bless.

«Life is wonderful»,
it says to me.
«Just follow the rule
to make you free

of despairs and sorrows,
loneliness and grief:
you need light to cast shadows.
This is more fact than belief!»

Denial or perspective?
A change of lenses?
Can I be objective
about the soul’s senses?

My life needs light,
joy and fulfilment,
but aiming too high
makes me lose the moment.

Instead of the horizon
my lenses should focus
on detail and action,
like a child who’s curious.

Life is made of seconds,
like cells are made of stardust.
Light shines in tiny microns
glued with love and trust.