Grey Optimism
In my dreams, nothing has ever been so clear.
In my dreams.
Not passion, but
exhaustion,
heavy sky pressing my mind
hoping for higher, higher
clinging sideways and down the ceiling.
Days touching nothing.
IF I’ve listened to you.
Seeing the world is not capturing the world.
I am a fragile thing.
The priest mouth full of words
Does not attenuate thirsty for silence dying.
But, strangely alive
The birds will come,
Praying keep me awake
Fire, ash, wind. I wait
Copyright © Eduardo Escalante | Year Posted 2017
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