Turks and Caicos Islands
I NEED the sea because it teaches me:
I do not know if I learn music or conscience:
I do not know if it's alone or being deep
or just snore voice or dazzling
Assumption of fish and ships.
The fact is that even when I'm asleep
somehow magnetic circle
in the university of the swell.
It's not just the crushed shells
as if some trembling planet
will participate gradually death,
no, from the fragment I reconstruct the day,
from a streak of salt the stalactite
and of a spoonful the immense god.
What once taught me I keep it! It's air,
incessant wind, water and sand.
It seems little for the young man
that here he came to live with his fires,
and yet the pulse that went up
and went down to its abyss,
the cold of the blue that crackled,
the crumbling of the star,
the tender unfolding of the wave
squandering snow with the foam,
the still power, there, determined
like a deep stone throne,
he replaced the room in which they grew
stubborn sadness, piling up forgetfulness,
and changed my existence abruptly:
I gave my adhesion to pure movement.