REFLECTIONS © 2011

After all, I am a poet, without schedules

For the inspiration that insists on blooming,

Without a marked time for various ideals,

That make me create, live, and love.

I am caught off guard,

By the hands that destiny draws,

And in each verse, in a lost second,

I find myself in the eternity of grace.

Knocked down at every moment,

By my inattentive childlike gaze,

That, in its purity, embraces the world,

But stumbles on the mystery of the divine.

And so I go, without direction or measure,

Following the rhythm of my own song.

---

Play

---