today

reality kindly brims to remind

more urgent incongruencies that are

the credited interests for filtering dreams,

spring has returned and on the dainty trees

the sequestred colour winter preserved

explode with blurred portamento on the landscapes.

the rosy blush of the cherry blossom

seems a bleached burnt on a celluloid frame

from where peep shrilling howlets demanding for food,

to which the garden fleece gently agree:

the Lilly and the crocus spring to greet

the beauty the light bestows from the mother's womb.

the unripe scents that senses swiftly trace

reach distant seasons met on mountain slopes

that blew toward valleys of promising pastures.

yet those seasons never bore fruits

fairer than the sad memories

that swell the pulp of old muscles

ready to grasp the seedless loss.

the river pursues, inure to weathers,

the faces that cities tidy for its banks

and silently deforms lines to blinking splinters:

from pebbles lifts the rims of dancing skirts

rowing to wings of birds tipping its ebbs

where brushes could fish the looms shed by the church's hours.

that's reality bathing in the real :

the touch that hatches below the skin's surface with the thought

that perceptions require to be represented.