LAST CYCLE © 2008

Grateful for the moment's roar

That you cause, in pure emotion,

Detaches from the wings with vigour,

And plunges into the ether abyss of creation.

Like Mr. Men, in light falls,

Acrobatics of a clever athlete,

In the tumbling fun, among the snows

Of thoughts, always nearby.

Entertaining the absent, distracted,

Sitting in the benches of silence,

Deputies, in collected gazes,

With grand gestures of broad consensus.

There, the judges read their notes with care,

Final verdict, an echo of redemption,

Innocents, the little ones run with zeal,

Free in the realm of imagination.

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