Falling on his knees
onto nothingness
from a higher height than the house where he was born,
the pilgrim:
today is the day to be with you
in a fall that is but naked and forsaken,
today is the day to be with the wind
in a whirl of wandering empty roses;
to be with you
like a wound in a consenting and harsh night
to be with you
like a sail in the deep outdoors of time,
to be with you
like bread thrown at the memory of the sea in infancy,
to be with you
floating over a life that keeps its gaze
while yielding the colour of its eyes,
to be with you
dying slowly listening to the future sound of your steps,
to be with you
being born barefoot onto the wet scented earth,
to be with you
with a humble voice, more naked than silence,
to be with you
mind emptied, leaning over
veins of stones and words,
to be only with you
no longer me.- Fernando Eduardo Carita
