on the boundary line

why do we start our journey
why do we start our journey
why?.................
 looking out the porthole
of my cabin stranded on dry land
I try to write a piece that looks like the eternal life
seeking a dialect made up of that salty sweet and flowery dough
verses arising from that mixture
left there to rest and rise under a clean cloth of patience

I try and I insist and persist and then
I give up
I do not have the right key and do not know the tune
I only have that hearsay inside that  does not mix with the song
like water sliding on oil
 fresh ink that stains this single sheet of mine

I will ask my love to lend me a chord
and we will sing along,
improvising
 until the end of the world!

since on the precarious keyboard of life,
at the bottom and at the top, after but also before,
little we know except that for anything
when it's time
 it's time
as it is
without part assigned or musical score
along the thin line
between the beginning and the end
an unconscious gaze
and the right words

Marco Bo