Protected by the shell of home
You listen to the devil’s flattery:
“Don’t go out, stay in bed!”
But the voice of the spirit
Urges you to act.
You get dressed and run outside,
Ready to face the new day
And its traps.
You come back home content:
“I made it through today, too.”
Life has given you a recharge.
Don’t stop, don’t look for
An easy shelter where
You can only find false Peace.
And you think back to sin.
If your senses are five,
Don’t offend those who envy you
For what nature denied them.
In cemeteries echoes day and night
The deepest cry of all: “I could have.”

The soul of commerce?
No; commerce of the soul.

Archives of expenses,
Calculated savings,
Chases after dreams.

Suddenly
Everything stops.
And the breathlessness melts away
In the face of the unknown.

The anguish slips out of my body
As my fingers glide over the keyboard
Of my guitar.
The music arrives to heal
Your sick body,
It arrives to soothe the pain of the mind.
A unison with God
That resolves fears,
A continuous prayer
Among the highs and lows
Of perfect notes.
The strings vibrate,
And my soul vibrates.
I dissolve into the moment.

A bee taps at the windowpane;
nature calling, calm and plain.
A world grown blind, in vain.

You cannot grasp it with your hand,
yet in your heart, it makes its stand.
It comes like lightning through the night,
then lingers quietly in your sight.
When weak, it lets in seeds of doubt;
when strong, it turns the battle out.
For it, so many met their end;
for it, the Saints began to ascend.
It lifts the poor in deep despair,
and haunts the rich with empty care.
On your last day, it holds you tight;
was it all worth the steadfast fight?
Only if we wake once more,
will we know what faith was for.

Today is my last day.
Even if tomorrow I wake up.
I no longer remember anything from yesterday.