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Poem

Listen closely, for the eternal silence spreads like a dense fog over the world,
a profound quiet that penetrates the temples of the soul and the forests of thought,
a wave of calm that flows through the rivers of time and the valleys of our dreams,
for this world is a tapestry of illusions and hidden truths, an endless search
in the depths of being, and eternity, that silent sage, does not listen to our murmur,
but observes us with its stone eyes, beyond the horizon of any quest,
like a master who knows that the journey is more important than the destination.
I close my eyes and let myself be carried by the flow of my consciousness, a river of images
that intertwine and unravel, like the withered leaves of a spiritual autumn,
I wonder if perhaps everything is just a journey, a story written by a traveler
who has wandered through all the corners of the soul, and in this silence,
I wonder if we are just the steps of his dream, dancing on the edge
of an unwritten path, with the wings of the soul spread toward the infinity of the unknown.
And if eternity does not see us, if it cannot hear us, then what are we,
but echoes of a forgotten journey, reverberations of a verse never spoken,
in this dance of silence, we lose and find ourselves, only to lose ourselves again,
perhaps that is the beauty of a life lived as an endless journey,
the lack of meaning gives us the freedom to discover our own truth,
in the smile of a star that fades, in the tear of a morning that will never come,
in this infinite silence that envelops us like a garment of unspoken words,
a journey that knows everything is just a dance of light and shadow, a game of the soul
where only silence has the last word, as a testament of an endless quest.

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