A gentle sunset was watching me on the road

 Anything peace. maybe only

the way the light focuses

in the volume, which leaves it whole, settled

in the inner gravity of existence.

Anything peace. Or simply,

absence of self, almost lunar,

that lighten the weight. and electricity

of being in the weight to pull.

Ή wind plateau. millennium

sowing meditation

exposing your site to the data

of oblivion. where loneliness,

to weigh himself, almost spoils

the light of the forehead where attention dominates.

when time revolved around the uterus

 and the hands established an innocent continuum with the present

 ignoring the uninhabited essence of the past tense

 and the details of an absent and indefinite time.

 

 later they revealed to me the rivalry of the thumb and

 finger bending mechanism

 and found a missing space in a fist

 where I made sure I could close the future:

 

 he did not know the wonderful and transcendental movement of the stars

 the primordial uninterrupted light

 and leaf circulation

 under the wind that blows where it wants.

So only then did I search for meaning

and the trail is non-returnable for those who walk

by no instinct beyond recognition.

A place of my own or of madness, he was alone.

 I came from I do not know where, I lost the house

of myself, or childhood. He came

when I only saw that I had recovered what I had lost

I used to be in such a place, my dear.

And what I gave up, what ended

silent loneliness hovering in an empty cry,

wide desert seen with false fear,

 everything I have given up keeps me company.

A gentle sunset was watching me on the road

behold, I dawn within me, I'm early again!