REFLECTIONS © 2011

What you see

Is only a shadow of me,

A serene mask that I hide,

But my true self is a swallow, free.

It gathers, discreet and alone,

On the eaves of silent homes,

And always departs, in a dust's tone,

Even when it lacks strong wings to roam.

Its flight, swift and light,

Is the affection it cannot show,

It's the soul, eager for the first

Embrace it never learned to know.

For one who needed much,

Without knowing how to speak the words,

The flight is the silent, deep shout,

Of a soul that, free, dreams of new worlds.

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