I counted my years

 
I counted my years, slowly, without haste,
and as I counted, time turned to ash.
I discovered that the clock, in its constant dance,
gives me a whisper, a distant breath.

I have less time, I feel it in my chest,
like a child who is astonished to find in the bed of his golden childhood a toy
of his golden childhood a forgotten toy,
like an echo of laughter in a silent world.

The days slip away, they are fleeting sands,
like shadows playing in tenacious lights.
There are no more hours in vain, every instant is a gift,
a flash of life, a desire, a longing.

The sun of my years is hidden at sunset,
and in the stellar brightness I find my step.
Even though sadness brushes my soul,
there is strength in dreams that still disarms me.