In the glow that binds our souls,
A gallery of nature’s art unfolds,
And through shattered life, we find our way,
Amidst windows of friendship’s ray.
Forget not my key, in this boundless sky,
Where mysteries and sacrifices lie,
Even the forest’s stones, in hasty flight,
Across low bridges, they take their light.
They move like insects, their appetite,
Devouring all the radiant light,
On desks, they feast, and gloves they claim,
With indolence, they play their game.
Oppressed by the weight of bird and bone,
In aluminum letters, their shadows shone,
Upon me, they cast their spectral grace,
In this solar system, our screens embrace.
Where stars of lead in marble fall,
Upon cobbled floors, like birds enthralled,
In their drunken flight, they dance so free,
Feasting on the hanged man’s mystery.
With liana’s stores, they seek their way,
A captive fish in a world of gray,
White phosphorus gleams in its eyes,
With castle footprints, the wind complies.
A tray of spring, the wind doth bear,
From a cement nest, it takes its share,
Forever dispossessed, it leaves its root,
Forever thirsty for lands aloof,
A tantalizing enigma, we chase,
In hands where mirrors once found their place.
The mirrors, they carry bridges, they say,
Reflecting bays in their fiery display,
Lime trees stand with simple grace,
Their carpeted emanations embrace.
May the fires of beauty rise and shine,
In memory’s garden, a gift divine,
To the sun, where secrets are unfurled,
On the island’s edge, in a distant world,
In the realm of dreams, where lanterns gleam,
May our hearts be touched by the lamp’s soft beam.
:: 09.01.2023 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 