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On the Hidden Paths of the Soul
Perhaps she once understood everything
That I, only now, have taught myself to decipher -
Moving away, as far from this spherical earth as possible,
Almost at the ends of dreams and of the sky - yet in her aura I remain,
Embraced not just by her tangible memory
But by the echoes she sowed long ago in my heart,
Her shadows that foretell and await me - I might try to say:
That love is an open struggle,
And while many things in the world flow smoothly, pure love does not,
For in its essence, love is pure power,
Its unique force,
That must endlessly carve a path from darkness
Toward light, from an embrace that exceeds ages forever toward oppressive dawns.
In the space where tears of stars descend in torrents,
Tears that trickle into our earth
And their light we call, we, the embodied spirit,
When the other beloved knows it, learning
For the first time what is most valuable in the loved one,
From then on, love becomes like courage,
No, courage itself, and perhaps, the only courage.
Crushed from the old selves, smearing the darkness
of expectations over experiences, we, all of us, tiny
thinkers whom similar thoughts of landing in the imponderable world carry home.

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