Mi último videito, de una nueva novela argentina (muy recomendada). Jugando con voces, sonidos y fotos.
Tuesday, May 01, 2012
There was, as there always is,
the Fiery Moment:
You burst into flames
at the sight of the Angel of Death
when she walked in what was your front door,
pointed at you, then out at the wide wild world.
Your denial died as you drowned in her eyes
and saw your long-time love in need
of more than you now provide.
Then, the Time of Reeling:
stumbling, stunned, eyes drowning
in the haze, mind ablaze,
the Angel now came cruel.
You clutched at your chest (of fool's gold)
as her claws sank deep,
tearing away hard-won hopes and fears - more fuel for the reblooming fire
And then, when all was burnt into past, the Time of Ash:
in you and about you, all fell apart
and you let the pieces lie,
let wind and passersby scatter the bits of you
in the land you once called home, held as your own,
and bit by irretrievable bit, you let it all go,
grieving the lost soul.
You would have walked away to see fairer horizons...
but neither your legs nor your eyes had survived.
Finally, the Time to be Fallow:
pure presence of emptiness
First you harden, then slowly, selectively soften,
yielding to layers of ash,
inhaling new nutrients.
Your deep earth gathers unto itself fertility
for another rebirth.