LETTERS TO DESTINY © 2012
And those more eager and thirsty
In the habitual distraction of those who love,
In an innocent way of being, fed by illusion,
Live following the invisible trail of their petals.
They are hearts that do not question
That embrace dreams in the air,
And, in the gentle touch of the breeze,
They believe they find love.
Each petal that falls, silently,
Is a thread of hope that guides them,
Even if the ground is uncertain
And the path eludes them day after day.
Naive? Perhaps, but pure,
In their directionless steps,
For those who love with closed eyes
Follow only the echo of emotion.
Fed by a promise,
That dissolves like dust in the wind,
Yet still, they persist,
Thirsty in their breath.
They live with their eyes on the horizon
Where the invisible seems real,
And in their hands, only petals remain
Of a love that, perhaps, is mortal.