comfort us

under this grey air conditioned sky
there are things you can see
other you do not

there are people who say in silence
others do not

there are places like the front door of your home
other are not

there are more cracks on the shiny metal of these suburbs of the world
than on the clods of earth in the field

there are places that seem ropes stretched  over immensity
those are our fears that have no shape nor name

maybe we should learn again to recognize the taste of eternity in the path of every single breath

every
single
breath
our soul opening the eyes on the universe
and then coming back inside
 to cradle and comfort us
a little

Marco Bo
http://cantidallaperiferiadelmondo.blogspot.it/2016/03/per-consolarci-un-po.html