Antonio Justel Rodriguez

ARRE, ARRE, OLD HORSE



… gee, gee, old horse, pull on, pull on…
you are still a horse, and, even if you don’t know it,
you still have to reach the top, get close to the sky and set the night on fire and transcend it;
no, don’t stop any longer, and, even if it is with effort,
kick the reins, and climb and trot upwards;
go on, move;
… because men know that when an old horse shines, kicks and flies,
the world must break its forms and seams because it must boil implacably and alive,
so with unusual longing, they begin to wait and wait for the implacable fire
of a great resurrection;
… old and dear body of mine, we have crossed impossible ravines, paths and seas;
We have heard the moaning of a rose, and, in the most intimate depths, ah, you know well,
our misfortune has been deep and raw because of the rough quagmire of sadness;
… bring, then, your axe of bones, and, once again, let us remember together.
how to re-sow the shadow with these few and insignificant crimson stones.
that we have found among the soul;
bring it to me, then, friend, do me this last favor,
let us embrace each other and let us go, because everything, absolutely everything, is a path…
***
Antonio Justel/Orión de Panthoseas
https://oriondepanthoseas
***

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Antonio Justel Rodriguez.
Published on e-Stories.org on 10/02/2024.

 
 

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