Once this poem ended here.
Then rose the other party.
then other things have happened
accents worthy of incline;
and there were additions and denials,
until the end came the beginning.
The beginning of life
is watching the snow
as silent light placed
painted on the cloth of the soul.
And looking believing and believing
be the logical consequence
of joy as you want.
But whatever
wanted to some point to talk
let's talk a minute only
or maybe two
just enough
"to the liquid chatter of sparrows,
within the sweet sound of life "
but once you reach this
stay in this
blessed
and nothing else, at least intrigue.
you But would you trust us?
the pain that lead
the pain that we carry
we do not see the stairs
then knowing only
that once all the poetry
ended up there, first of all:
you again would you trust us
pull so that for long?
It seems that this center
my dear, we are so close,
is the blind can survive
I'm not experienced much
here and blindly plotting stanzas
a language I do not know
I was told to create opportunities
the breath of trouble in a flash
yet sometimes only for a moment
sometimes only for a while yet
I seem to know so well that
beauty has no arguments
and could spread to sudden
lessons on this often blind to light
jar of colored edges
where each takes the knowledge
the only portion of wonder
continuing the journey chewed
might instead pursue every other
unexpected as the call of God
a gesture of hawk trembling
the promise of a sea between the foam
a whim of much greater things
disturbing all my heart renews
but this may not even poetry
that does not add to all creation
even if only one letter missing ...
Once the poem ended so
and nobody believed that the heart
knew how to fly so far
the unbridgeable distance proximity
that no one ever to fill
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