“Reality is wrong. Dreams are real”

                                  Tupac Shakur

Dreaming,

I dreamed about you last night

and dreamt of you waking up.

I also dreamt you awake

and I dreamed of you woke up.

Was my dream your dream as well?

No doubt they were our dreams.

Other life

“To dare is to lose your balance momentarily.

 Not to dare is to lose oneself”

                                         Soren Kierkegaard

I flew,

         I ascended to where

         the eagles dream their dwellings:

                                   close to your sky.

I will have to be born again.

Yes. I will need another life

                              to inhabit

the boulders, rocks and cavities

                    of your summits.

When nothing anymore exists

“You see things and you say: why?

But I dream things that never were and say: why not?”

                                                    George Bernard Shaw

When the world dies of old age

and the stars grow tired of shining

or when nobody remembers

that there was a city where you were born.

When the sun, barely visible, is only

 barren of elusive rays,

and the earth turned off, at night, already in the dark,

become buried in the ubiquitous waters

of the lady of Shalott.

When all dreams stop dreaming

and the eternal memory is not a fallacious memory.

When the desperate dawn is immolated in cruel suicide

seeing that its daily delivery is sterile

nothing and nobody shines.

When through the tarnished windows

of the black clouds that still hang on the forgotten skies

the mutant moon eludes to see you anymore.

When nothing exists of the ephemeral almost null existence,

then, even then,

when this happens or stop happening

I’ll keep whispering quietly, without words:

you are my memory and life, my whole existence and joy

you’re the only reason why I’m still living …

Has it at all a meaning

this penetrating silence?

“Silence is often the most eloquent answer”

                                                Hazrat Ali

Today, the silence has no meaning.

You are still the backdrop to my every thought and deed,
you are the path I step, you are the air I breathe.
You’ve been for many the years

fresh sheltering, my shadow, constant, persistent.

You see? Each time I sit at the computer,

just think of writing you…
and then all I can see is a squawking,

creaking keyboard a white smilingly screen…

but not you.

And I feel uninspired, not knowing what to do.
I leave my room, go out, walk quiet among the woods,

and walking in the woods I feel I’m greatly inspired

and wish could talk to you:                 

                                To no avail, dreams guts.

Thank you for all that you are,

for reading these lame lines

and sharing this dull time.