Where Do I place you

There is
An unwritten poem
On the other side of desire,
That has lived there
As I have, In my own way

It's a different poem
It's not a page from
One particular book
But a life written

It doesn't know
where to appear
Because all its life
It's lived undiscovered

A cart of oranges
The loud noise of palms
Bird song
The call of youth
Other years.


All rights reserved
Derechos reservados
Fidel War/ Fidel Guerra

 

There is an unspoken poem, in every sigh of nature, in every tear of rain, in every rising sun, and in every silent moon, in a magical night.
You must write all the poems that your soul keeps, my friend.
I love this page from the book of your life of letters.

Hugs.

 

Cecy,
I would like to express my sheer appreciation for you,
because the impact your words have on me, in English or Spanish, is just as constant and intense.

I can’t explain to you how a poem touches us in thousands of daily ways, but I guess,
a poetic thought one day at a time and one poem at a time works just fine for me.

Thanks for such a wonderful comment y dejame decirte,
pareciera que cada palabra tuya tuviera algo de tu presencia; no sé, una sonrisa, una calma…

Hugs and more hugs..

Fidel Guerra…