heaven that nobody knows

at the end of the first millennium
frail as a twig
I went volunteer to the end of the world

ephemeral results that stood in the palm of one hand
yet I did carry my little bag of sand to fix the path

then I understood, 
instead of plugging the hole
becoming the road I should have

and then 
after yet another caress from life
I realized that
I had to dig and go way down

you ask what can I say now 
I can say that I finally am

I am
a hole on the road
by these forgotten suburbs of the world

and so happy I am
trampled by millions of steps and tears and smiles
nothing else I ask 
since this is true heaven that nobody knows

Marco Bo 
to Nicaragua dedicated