Poemas 8/4/21

Licking open wounds
I travel without aim
For standing sounds
Even more empty

Until when the Time is
The Hand my head touches
And like from a dream I wake
Into All-Fulfilling Beauty

The Lord of my Thoughts
I have not
For unruly have they been
Ousting Reality for a Chimera
Leaving me alone with the void

A seed I am
In the locket of Time
Sound I sleep
Until Time Itself comes
Breaking my casket
Breaking my sleep
And pouring its contents
Onto the Richest Soil
Time makes me become
What I have always been

I am Flower
By Whose Touch
I Blossom

I Flourish
And with Gratitude
I Reveal

A parcimonious thing
One not often sees –
A jewel of Him

I am the soul
Forged before Time
I have lived Infinitudes
Since Its advent

I am Fire
What I touch
Is animated and elevated
And consumed in ephemeral dance.

I am the Lord
Mand into His Likeness
I am lost in a sea of mirrors
Seeking of the reflections their Generator

I am Love
A shard of His Compassion
I was made into the World
With absolutely nothing to lose.

Patanga Cordeiro, 8/4/2021