Endless sounds

make up thoughts

that take to the air

from deserted beaches.

The wave seizes

its shore, harp-like

whilst he who goes

grasps breezy whispers

to hide in the breast.

That puff of words

comes out again

of already heard infancy

of mother, of father

of another self…

and shouts just one word

that each life embraces;

a sweet teardrop

returns in the evening

and a moon melody.

The fog carries

The horizon alongside,

and the earth’s flavour…

the present

squeezes us ever tighter

to timeless thoughts.

The fog carries

the eyes to the heart,

and, sometimes, the memory

of nothing

in which our fleeting existence

suddenly appears.

I was afraid

to look at the woman, and the other

of my faded image

reflected in the life of a mirror.

Not even I asked to be a child together

with all those autumn colours.

Tomorrow, will be winter

and with the branches having shed

their clothes

I really will be able to see your smile.

I watch a dog

wandering the streets.

with a tired air,

afraid.

Quickly dodging

Passers-by and vehicles

to disappear

down a calm alley.

In which roads

will my seasons end up?

They have knocked,

and somebody has opened the

door to my dreams.

In the silence of this black night

I heard them run

behind my eyes.

Tired, at dawn

Again huddled together like children

to dream of the day.

There is the silence of the sea,

leading way beyond the horizon.

There is the silence of the wind,

lifting our dreams skywards.

There is the silence that is muted

within its own silence.

Star drops

to bathe this night….

looking for us again.

This wind on the meadows

plays among the thoughts,

with its thousand reasons.

Don't wake me up…

I am dreaming of you!

In the heat of a summer

colours

of parched flowers,

of noises already forgotten…

… of voices

and breeze in the hair

to muddle thoughts.

Seagulls swoop down

to steal smiles.

I don't know their nests.

I only remember my colours.

It is difficult to write about love.

Youth, senescence.

like ash and snow

subtle shades

of the same colour,

butterflies

of the same day.

Just above, alongside,

enveloped in veils

of soft hues, Melancholy

shows through ….

in the expressionless glance

of a silence as deafening

as those eyes.

And I … alone,

touched by innocent thoughts.

Insatiable time

devours life,

giving the crows eternity.

Yellow beaks, like gold,

black feathers….

shrill is the sound

of the moment that fades away

becoming a word.

I looked for silence… life

on different geometric shapes

the look remains perplexed,

trying, still, to understand its irregular sides.

Discordant state of existence,

in my cry.

Distant boats

like stars,

in making a sky of the sea

on hints of horizons.

The sun remains undecided

on our looks,

to make a dream out of life

on indifferent shores.

They migrate into the soul

silent flocks of thoughts...

in the flight of hope, to oppose

a feather weight of wistfulness

on ashen autumn roofs.

And so many ruffled letters

hovering in the wind, shouting,

looking for the South, warmth

searching within itself, again and again.

to leave indelible moments

on heaven’s pages.

What is loneliness

if not an abyss

that swallows every smile….

And at the bottom of that well

Everyone reaches out

searching for themselves,

or to listen to life’s silence.

The mother you think of,

whom you have cancelled

so much of your yesterday….

still strong in love

in looking at the man, still

your child, yet

so tired of wandering

from beak to beak

offering more crumbs of love.

The mother you think of,

stop thinking!

Let him be the man, now

To render you his love.

I, who have lived

wrapped in a desert’s silence,

am lost

among the sand and my weeping,

stretching my hands towards a dream….

The mirage of a soul on the horizon.

Then, the sky was torn

and that image entered into my heart.

Now, it trembles no more,

not even I.

I will never learn

to fly,

but now I know

- by closing my eyes-

that the stars

are not so far, after all.

I will never learn

to live,

but now I feel

- by opening up the horizon-

that those stars

are no longer just silence.

Love,

don't leave me tonight

I feel cold inside.

Your silence is enough,

your breath

to close my eyes.

without the void

taking me towards desert dreams.

In those squares

where I usually sang

there are new people, indifferent

to life’s carefree sounds…

empty mouthed

and dark thoughts,

where has my city of yesterday gone?

There is a road

between thoughts and days, taken

each season

that lasts the few eternal crumbs…

finishing there, where it began

in a tunnel of time,

and it opens anew

- with an extra grain-

moving round, again and again…

life’s bright corridors, taken

each season

that lasts a few crumbs

of winter,

finishing there, where it began

in a road of timeless existences.