Not too long ago, life was simple,
people had time to dream and take siestas,
or so we have been told.
Then, people trusted, anxiety did not rule,
and leaves did not cover.
Later appeared the snake,
the inwardly rotating spiral, two thirds,
the inventor of pride, who, by cascading his lies,
vastly changed our landscape.
For equilibrium was broken by the mighty winds,
time became fractured and complex,
and unity was shattered into dirt, multi-dust, death,
or so we have been told,
as we may painfully see.
These were sad days, dark days,
or so we have been told.
For the empty replaced the whole,
and the longest, always longest,
devilish steps displaced the shortest,
and most economic, pathway of brotherhood.
At the appointed time, life arrived to its destiny.
The rose blossomed and her first offspring,
filled with the unitive power of outer love,
offered his ineffable sacrifice,
or so we have been told.
For the ever positive obeyed the voice,
and, by rising, integrated it all,
healing with his grace all dissipation,
and withering with his tenderness all chaos,
or so we have been told,
hence restoring the original song.
These were happy days, amazing days,
or so we have been told.
For the scrolls were correct and the logistics faithful.
For humility do shield, as trusting dynamics,
so very unlikely, take children to O,
rescuing them from wandering forever in high heat.
As history evolved, the warmth of everlasting
love
and his Spirt were poured into those believing
this story,
or so we have been told.
These little ones have power over entropy
and express their fearless freedom
by sharing their pristine waters.
These normal boys and girls
are fully filled-up and belong to the stars,
or so we have been told.
Those avoid non-linearities, greed, avalanches,
violence, turbulence, and anything critical,
for they dream peace and unity.
For they know that treasures are hidden inside the heart,
in calling bells, as one crosses the other side of silence,
beyond quarks.
These are sad days or happy days,
virtual realities or truth, market crashes or jubilees,
or so we have been told.
For nature hints it is best to be fit, so that,
by conducting the eternal flames,
we may leave our primeval caves
and find our home in the universe.
Acknowledgments: The artful illustrations on this page were made by my beloved wife Marta. This effort is dedicated to my God-given friend Steve Bennett and to all those who wish to eat a delicious ice cream, as expressed by Silvio Rodríguez, my troubador.
| 
