escritura::writing
Escritura
Me escribo en la tierra porque dentro de ella todo se restaura.
Los vientos se curvan como una oración.
Los árboles son un racimo de huesos que maduran su luz en el misterio.
Los ríos y los mares nos recorren y celebran su gloria en la sangre.
Al amar y al sufrir sentimos las chispas de un fulgor.
Digo y escribo con tierra.
Es la escritura de mi cuerpo que no cesa.
No hay tal página en blanco ni soledad de la separación.
Escribo en la tierra conmigo mismo, prolongado.
¿Quién guía mi dedo en esta tarea?
¿Acaso me une el carácter de otra mano invisible?
La palabra enterrada siempre renace en el cielo, respira.
Los Buscadores de Agua (2000)
Writing
I write on the ground because inside of it all is restored.
The winds are curved like a prayer.
Trees are a cluster of bones that mature their light in the mystery.
The rivers and the seas flow through us, and celebrate their glory in the blood.
When loving and suffering we feel the sparks of a brilliance.
I say and write with soil.
It is the script of my body that never ceases.
There is neither such blank page nor loneliness of separation.
I write myself into the ground, prolonged.
Who guides my finger in this task?
Am I connected to the character of another invisible hand?
The word buried forever is reborn in the sky, breathes.
The winds are curved like a prayer.
Trees are a cluster of bones that mature their light in the mystery.
The rivers and the seas flow through us, and celebrate their glory in the blood.
When loving and suffering we feel the sparks of a brilliance.
I say and write with soil.
It is the script of my body that never ceases.
There is neither such blank page nor loneliness of separation.
I write myself into the ground, prolonged.
Who guides my finger in this task?
Am I connected to the character of another invisible hand?
The word buried forever is reborn in the sky, breathes.
The water searchers (2000)
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