In the embrace of the unseen moment, love bloomed humbly

In the embrace of the unseen moment, love bloomed humbly, The cosmos writhes in ecstasy, beneath the unconstructed gaze of mastery. Gathered around it are emissions of time, transmissions of ancestral eternities, Reveries in water strokes, heavenly reflections, in the languages of virtuality. Paintings from the time when light clothed itself in a robe of space, The machinery of ideas ticks its advice amidst the din, from tablets of concealed foundation. At the crossroads, floral equations bow in their harmony of effect and cause, Woven from cosmic memories into the bittersweet velvet of a dream afar. From the mystical abdomen of dreaming, the sphere was untied, disintegrated, shattered Into two, into four, eight, and further, in the fervent rhythm of desperate division. It became a universe of crystal, a seed of life throbbing in the delicacy of the thread, A living mosaic, the fish at dusk, that in the blade of water is reflected and quivers, From the belly of nights, into the belly of the day, an opossum, a sentient of the forest, A contemplative chimpanzee, a little man with eyes heavy with pristine infinity. From a wave was born the thread of a dream, from a star fell a petal of flame, From a cloud trickled the melancholy of waterfalls, the eternal clock being swept away. And in the white flight of the blizzard blinded by memories, by poems, by garlands of stars, A tramway trickles horizons, worlds kneaded, in the wing of a summer fly. A market of trajectories, a structure that caresses the economic pulse, a priest of symmetry, The icosahedron spins in the palm of the night, and time coagulates memories of love into gold. The plan of the oak awakens in the fervor of the promise, in a cycle of the miracle of rebirth, And hidden laughter, unspun into the silk of mornings, where all windows turn toward the sky. Bacteria dance in the perilous river of life, the winter of color, a prey gaining a hue of blood, A play between offering and captivity, between the fire of love and the ice of forsaking. Agony blends with the intertwining of love, with hate, with a heart torn apart by fates, And the unspoken, unwritten words of solitude, that always wait to take root or lose their seed. The future courses of time move forward in this room where creation is woven and unwoven, Each writing, each letter, each chord, and each syllable of silence, stand at crossroads. The possibility of a great nothing, of an unlived life, of an unhappened world, Reviving in a dream where what is and what isn't, become balanced in the sleep of eternity. For, in the end, in this universe both made and unmade, love is the thread that binds to life, And everything is a fabric of magic and mystery, woven mostly from the unnamed invisible.