"incorruptible" poems
O Distinct
Lady of my unkempt adoration
if I have made
a fragile curtain
song under the window of your soul
it is not like any songs
(the singers the others
they have been faithful
to many things and which
die
i have been sometimes true
to Nothing and which lives
they were fond of the handsome
moon never spoke ill of the
pretty stars and to
the serene the complicated
and the obvious
they were faithful
and which i despise,
frankly
admitting i have been true
only to the noise of worms
in the eligible day
under the unaccountable sun)
Distinct Lady
swiftly take
my fragile certain song
that we may watch together
how behind the doomed
exact smile of life’s
placid obscure palpable
carnival where to a normal
melody of probable violins dance
the square virtues with the oblong sins
perfectly
gesticulate the accurate
strenuous lips of incorruptible
Nothing under the ample
sun, under the insufficient
day under the noise of worms
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I am the Reaper.
All things with heedful hook
Silent I gather.
Pale roses touched with the spring,
Tall corn in summer,
Fruits rich with autumn, and frail winter blossoms--
Reaping, still reaping--
All things with heedful hook
Timely I gather.
I am the Sower.
All the unbodied life
Runs through my seed-sheet.
Atom with atom wed,
Each quickening the other,
Fall through my hands, ever changing, still changeless
Ceaselessly sowing,
Life, incorruptible life,
Flows from my seed-sheet.
Maker and breaker,
I am the ebb and the flood,
Here and Hereafter.
Sped through the tangle and coil
Of infinite nature,
Viewless and soundless I fashion all being.
Taker and giver,
I am the womb and the grave,
The Now and the Ever.
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The power of resources beyond lack
Filling up every vacuum of want
What could we ever ask?
When there’s provision for what we need not yet
In Heaven’s Economy
Peace that passes understanding
Erasing the fear of depression
With enough confidence to face tomorrow
Provided through the network of faith
Heavens' Economy
Where the existence of famine is not recognized
Even the least budget is well organized
Its treasures are incorruptible
And only by faith is it accessible
Reserved for the people in His kingdom
Managed by His wisdom
Heaven’s economy, powered by God.
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 1:12 AM UTC
A delicate crimson rose endures
The snow and winds of winter's grasp
And closes up and wilts a while
Until Summer sun it finds at last
In this world of unrighteousness
Where brutes and ogres' egos roam
And selfishness abounds like weeds
She exists in shattered form
With silent seething disilusion
And saddened, unrequited love
Maddened by the unjust acts
of those who advertized their “love”
A vain and self-indulgent god
Did sieze himself her mind and oath
Presiding as the demons do
In hidden acts pronounced as gross
Enduring the madness of matriarchs
And the hostility of tribal gang
Where smiles of familial welcoming
Turned into savage, jealous fangs
Yet though the bitterness seeps through
And anger permeates her skin
Sweet dignity she still retains
And devotion stll resides within
Her adornment incorruptible
Her spirit mild and resolute
Did not return evil for evil
But stood and conquered it with good
Happy is she who has endured
And in mild subjection did remain
Showing honour to a painful degree
To bring honour to Jehovah's name
And though she stumbled in despair
Yet withstood for righteous sake
Her loyalty, the beast could not sever
Nor divine concsience could he break
For like the rose at winter's end
That bears a striking sharpened thorn
Her petals still are soft and pure
And her soul with beauty still adorned
For the righteous one who sees all things
And whose love she yet retains
Will never for eternity forget
The love she showed for his great name
And should she reach out and beseech
And trust his salvation once again
She would know with certainty
He has never let go her hand
(For my precious daughter, Cheryl, who has been to hell and back)
May 3, 2020
May 3, 2020 at 1:19 PM UTC
color me
color you
a truly new human hue
like a bright star
crystal clear, drink
from its waking waters
grieve, keen
but re-believe
in our incorruptible
stellifying power
beginning with
a galaxy of hands
—interconnected hands—
that touch with the emitting
rays of compassion
Jun 5, 2022
Jun 5, 2022 at 7:11 PM UTC
Love and Hate are two most curious things
The impulses, the thoughts, and the actions they bring
The absence of Love is the absence of Life,
cut from the collective like soft flesh with a knife
The presence of Hate is corrosive in time,
makes as much sense as a poem with rhyme
Hate and Love are companions - they go hand in hand
Through beaches and mountains - forest and sand
Hate is incorruptible but alas - Love is not the same
Something to remember while you're playing the game
Of romance and intrigue, truth and lies
Screams of passion and loathing tinged with sighs
Love is truth and Hatred - Deception
Ever has it been since the universe's conception
And when the game is over and the dust has cleared
You'll find nothing's been done to assuage what you feared
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 5:15 AM UTC
When I was twelve, my older sister, Annick, was in med school.
She was dedicated and incorruptible - always studying, always.
I wanted her to spend time with me, I craved her engagement.
I was jealous and mean to her, thinking her uncaring - uninterested in me.
Now, I get it. Now days, I seem to behave like a machine,
I’m busy and unapproachable - forgetting myself in function
and I’m just a lowly undergraduate.
When I think about how hard she must of been working,
I tear up, like someone hearing a sad song on the radio.
Nov 14, 2021
Nov 14, 2021 at 6:12 AM UTC
I was born in grave clothes
Raised in grave clothes
Unaware I even bathed in grave clothes
I didn't know the extent of my decay
Like the bones were expose in my face but I didn't have reflective glass to see my flesh
I was on a rotten path
Death would have been the only prize at the end of my race
Strongholds wrestled my thoughts and subdued my brain
Bone marrow deep I was linked to Adam
Lord knows I wasn't Abel
Dna tied to blood imprinted on the ground I had more in common with Cain
It's true a heart beat of sin causes death to course through vains
I wondered how could I be treated
Something was missing something was needed
To my shock it was Jesus
Clear! He got my heart beat right
With that resurrection power
Made my heart see light
He changed my life
I started to realize that the same power that raised Christ from the dead
Was the same power that lived in me
That does more than allow me to breathe .
It brings life back to limbs riddle with rigor mortis
It's reverses decomposition brings back what death has stolen
It's uncontrollable like a lighting storm.
It's unadulterated
Once it hits
It's changes landscape like when a nuclear warhead is detonated
Hoover dam generated power
Turbine engine spending power
Lift the dead out of sin power
Tectonic plate shifting, erecting mountains from plains power
By one name only can we be saved power
Second coming cracking the sky power
All knees shall bow and all tongues shall comply power
Corruptible turned into incorruptible in a instant power
Rebirth repositioned repurposed repented power
Turn what seems to be a lost into a win power
It is finish the precursor to the release of infinite power
I could never be the same because the spirit lives in me gives me power
My arteries are laced with a burning flame
A roaring wind, a groaning earth, a raging sea crashing waves
The impact of several elements crush the chains of a slave
It's the same power that said come forth Christ friend walks out the grave
The same power that moved the stone a borrowed tomb turned to a cave
It's the power of the Resurrection
In a world full of aborted life
It breeds conception
In a world that attempts to abort Christ
The church still cries out in reverence
Changed death for us now it's portal
Changed lives of stop watches into immortal
Resurrection power a glimpse into the eternal
Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 6:26 AM UTC
I am alive with Christ (Ephesians 2:5). I am far from oppression and fear does not come near me (Romans 8:2).
I am born of God and the evil one does not touch me (1 John 5:18). I am holy a d without blame before Him in love(Ephesians 1:4, 1 Peter 1:16).
I am God's child, for I am born again of the incorruptible seed of the word of God, whichvlives and abides forever(1 Peter 1:23).
I am God's workmanship, created in Christ to do Good works (Ephesians 2:10).
I am a new creation in Christ (2 Corinthians 5:17).
I am a believer and the light of the Gospel shines in my mind(2 Corinthians 4:4). I am a doer of the Word and blessed in my actions(James 1:22, 25). I am a joint-heir with Christ(Romans 8:37).
I am more than a conqueror through Him who loves me(Romans 8:37).
I am an overcome by the blood of the Lamb and the word of my testimony(Revelation 12:11).
I am a peacemaker of His divine nature(2 Peter 1:3,4). I am an ambassador for Christ(2 Corinthians 5:20).
I am part of a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a purchased person(1 Peter 2:9).
I am the righteousness of God in Jesus Christ(2 Corinthians 5:12).
I am his elect, full of memory, kindness, humility, and long suffering(Romans 8:33; Colossions 3:12).
I am forgiven of all my sins and washed in the Blood (Ephesians 1:7). I am redeemed from the course of sin, sickness, and poverty(Detronomy 28:15-68; Galations 3:13).
I am called of God to be the voice of His praise (Pslam 66:8; Timothy 1:9).
I am healed by the stripes of Jesus(Isaiah 53:5; 1 Peter 2:24). I am raised up with Christ and seated in heavenly places (Ephesians 1:6; Colossions 2:12).
I am greatly loved by God (Romans 1:7; Ephesians 2:4; Colossions 3:12; 1 Thessalonians 1:4).
I am strengthened with all might according to His glorious power (Colossians 1:11).
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 4:29 PM UTC
since the first pop use of the phrase
window of opportunity
(was it Bush or Stargate SG-1?)
politicians big and small
corrupt and incorruptible
fallible and infallible
have all bombarded
the media – on radio, in their blogs
and personal sites
newspapers and journals and broadcasts
and through any speech
they get a chance to make
with that ready phrase:
window of opportunity
Oh, turn on the radio
as you drive maybe
and some glum Finance Minister whispers:
* …grab the window of opportunity…*
read the papers and some plump Minister of Health says:
…we must grab this window of opportunity…
Oh, whole speeches in the English Language now
are bullet-ridden with that cliche
and of course the financial planners
and educators
and doctors and even unimaginative lovers
they have all jumped in
into this window of opportunity
till I’m so irritated and angry now
that if I hear one more eminent personality say:
window of opportunity
Oh, the next time – just one more time –
if I hear anyone use that phrase
window of opportunity
I’m going to send in contract window cleaners
and they’ll grab the window-of-opportunity-user by the collar
and throw them out through the window
and clean the window after –
and I’ll assure you,
those contract window cleaners
will not miss that window of opportunity!
Oct 8, 2010
Oct 8, 2010 at 8:36 PM UTC
Intangibly, it cometh and goeth.
Substanceless it slips in transition from one immeasurable instant to the next. Equitable to infinite space, in terms of distance, infinite time is a concept quite alien to the finite human mind. There is no proof of existence, it is a human conception with no sensory component, an illusion and utterly immeasurable in real terms with only a human contrivance to calibrate it....(and poorly at that).
Time is the silken zephyr on which we lay our dreams and aspirations. It is the currency of deep religion and is regarded as the ultimate sword hand of God. Incorruptible and absolute it brooks no favour, seeks no fame. Irreversible in it's cold implacable, unquenchability it merely, unfeelingly.... proceeds.
M.
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 10:02 PM UTC
Once across a Caledonia dreary, whose Echo,
Amid the Jötnar, was MAN, I wandered hurt and weary,
Until yon Glare, with deadly Rage flaming,
Lo! I beheld, next to the Iron Gates
Of a long-forgotten Ruin named still
After incorruptible Titanium.
A noble, finely engraved feudal Vest,
Under a Luminary invisible, implacable,
Shone thither with a Glare fiercer, methought,
Than that of the rubies at warlike Valhalla,
Amid Walls time-eaten, kingly Banners, and proud Towers,
And dwelt there in melting Titanium.
Deep memories of martial Woe
Like an arrow piercing my ***** and aimed
Thro' the Night with lethal Glare,
No barrier was there to be found
Between my Past yielding and this conquering Robe
With Runes marked deep in Titanium.
Thus I remembered having once graved,
In revered silence and solitary anger,
Into the Glare, within the Hills, upon the Dust,
The Emblem of the OVERMAN,
Which thou may again now see gleaming,
With pride Superhuman, o'er this garb of Titanium.
My Enemy Wraith haunting me no more,
Into a most profane dying hour,
I walked forth, to wear of the Armour of the Glare the worth,
And felt, intensely, from the Zenith of a most fiery Heaven,
The Rays from the Stars imbuing my Very Gore
With blinding, rageful Titanium.
Hereupon, with Cuirass thus worn, I bethought me of boldly ascending,
With heavy Claymore drawn, in a Guard of the Hawk,
At Ultima Thule, of the Bluish Glare, the Hidden Rock,
And at its scorching Crest, with Blade o'er me flashing, widened my gathering Breast,
The Largest Mirror, the Highest Beacon, aye,
Before the wild Blaze molten down in Titanium.
Jul 24, 2020
Jul 24, 2020 at 3:12 AM UTC
There was a time when
all times looked the same
passing through seamless
dawn of ageless drain
We sought, fought and
bought our freedom for an ageless price
At a pace that dares not to take away our
endangered race
But what have brought
this craze of dismembering
the maze we felt less safe in.
The incorruptible men who
once calmed the storm
are now cohorts of a demeaning plot.
Their role in a war of stakes
is a gusty grab for the frontline
as they tussle for the ratio of cake
a game they so delight in.
Exhausted in a place which
was once a timeless haven
as their dignity is torn in shreds.
All sorts of glory are lost
still no one feels this is a shared shame.
If only we knew the journey would abort halfway
but the signs were like flare from the start
as sides became drawn in clear spat.
Two hundred and more of our “prized cowries”
got snatched from our land and our leaders
cannot guard our streets because they say
the times are bad and the enemies are back.
Everything get soured and some of us are left behind
as limbs are severed high into the firmament of red horror
We go hash with our tag
twitting and chanting that they restore our girls
bring back our girls-we pray
bring back our girls- we chant
Bemused, the soldiers assure to search our lands
While Boko bomb us out from our very own sands
Tangled, mangled, limbs and bodies get buried in our time.
© Chijioke Izundu P
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 3:14 AM UTC
CUMHAL called out, bending his head,
Till Dathi came and stood,
With a blink in his eyes, at the cave-mouth,
Between the wind and the wood.
And Cumhal said, bending his knees,
"I have come by the windy way
And learn to pray when you pray.
"I can bring you salmon out of the streams
And heron out of the skies."
But Dathi folded his hands and smiled
With the secrets of God in his eyes.
And Cumhal saw like a drifting smoke
All manner of blessed souls,
Women and children, young men with books,
And old men with croziers and stoles.
"praise God and God's Mother,' Dathi said,
"For God and God's Mother have sent
The blessedest souls that walk in the world
To fill your heart with content."
"And which is the blessedest,' Cumhal said,
"Where all are comely and good?
Is it these that with golden thuribles
Are singing about the wood?"
"My eyes are blinking,' Dathi said,
"With the secrets of God half blind,
But I can see where the wind goes
And follow the way of the wind;
"And blessedness goes where the wind goes,
And when it is gone we are dead;
I see the blessedest soul in the world
And he nods a drunken head.
"O blessedness comes in the night and the day
And whither the wise heart knows;
And one has seen in the redness of wine
The Incorruptible Rose,
"That drowsily drops faint leaves on him
And the sweetness of desire,
While time and the world are ebbing away
In twilights of dew and of fire."
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I am holding myself accountable
For now, but not always
There's times when I should have
been the first to say I'm sorry
Of course we all have those times.
We must all have those times.
To err, to caution, to be human
Questioning if you said or did
What was right, most kind
The best possible actions
Achieving the most perfect outcome
But I cannot hold myself hostage
To reckoning with perfection
Nor can anyone else reasonably
****** me upon such a pedestal
and expect me to preform
my best, most absolute
unconditional, unequivocal
gestures of good faith
If they have not made themselves
Stand tall in such high places
Responsibly bearing the weight
Of being incorruptible to errors
I allow myself to look within
And search for the answers
As to why there's always this desire
To be something more than
The accumulation of cells and dust
That surrounds my innermost self
It seems like finding answers
Will have to start with asking questions
As to why I am the way I am
Right here in the now.
If I can shape myself into anything,
more than or less than
what I already am right now
How can I ever truly be myself?
How to begin knowing myself
If it was never really clear as to
what my self was to begin with?
Where is the source of who I am?
What I am? How I am, and why?
What happens if I stripped away
All that I am and put the pieces
back together in a different way?
Would I become someone else,
or something else entirely?
I have always wondered
If wondering will be good enough
In search of the answers
In search of the miraculous
An inner earth within the earth
which I heard only
existed in pages of a book
Written in the sand
A very long time ago
If you looked into yourself
and saw a mirror reflecting
the parts of other people
you either hated or loved,
Could you continue to look
at yourself when others called on you
and honestly say to them,
"Look, I am what I've become"?
Oct 20, 2022
Oct 20, 2022 at 3:49 AM UTC
Father God
The world has provoked my heart into anger
My people happily marrying
Drinking their affairs asunder
Slavery never ends as masters of Earth continue to be Earthly
Working on the eyes, people-pleasing
While hiding their hearts in the dust and the dreadfully *****
I pray the dust of the Earth seek Your purging
See through the fangs of night,
Love illuminating
Let me be home, into your peace; a nourishing swarm
Rest my head against You like a babe, nestled in your arms
Rescued my hand to hold
Place my heart in Your hands
Pierce through heart and soul
Love Incorruptible
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 2:33 PM UTC
It's been a while
since feelings like these have pervaded, invaded, slipped through
the walls I built up.
I was afraid to trust
having been misused, mistreated, mistaken.
But you cured me...
it seems, I hope, I fear
with your incorruptible inculpability.
I was wary to let go, commit, reveal.
But you convinced me
it's okay
to express, abandon, accept.
So to me
it's quite new
(kind of hand-me-down new)
this feeling, experience, occurrence;
like closing a box,
hiding it away,
only to open it
much later
and find something:
new, developed, changed
better.
It's all so
strange, unexpected, exciting
incredible:
the way you make me feel.
I'm relearning
how to trust, to share, to grow
to love.
And,
despite my misgivings,
I long to grow closer, learn more, be free.
Because to me
you're unique
amazing
inspiring.
Sep 22, 2012
Sep 22, 2012 at 11:36 PM UTC
The frumpy ragamuffin is discombobulated
And throws together an out fit
She dawns a fur coat in the middle of July
And begins to eat Alpo
She exfoliates her feet with a cheese grater
The top notch tuba player with a hook for a hand suffers from bed sores and an over active pituitary gland
I ask him what the difference is between reasons and excuses
He seems to be dancing around the question
But answers in a round about way
Implying that one is organic and natural while the other is genetically modified and man made
It's zero hour
As I look at the broken coo coo clocks
And the rainbow colored rocks
The ragamuffin presumptuously tells me that no one benefits from doubt
Then calls my friend a bed wetter
And tells us she must go to feed her Venus flytraps
She storms back towards her laboratory
I wonder what she could possibly do in there
I'm dying to know
I'm on the edge of my seat
With one foot in the grave
The tuba player returns wrapped in an electric blanket
He tells us he's just suffered from sleep paralysis
"It's a dead zone, can't get a signal"
He goes on to say that blind faith is is a stepping stone to the truth
A game of William Tell, a stab in the dark
A round of Blind man's bluff with Marco Polo
Testing the waters is a building block of wisdom
And a clean bill of health is corner stone of a happy life
That you have to pay for out of pocket when playing the field
And we are the choices we've made incarnate
Now, the ragamuffin and the tuba player come once more
To tell us the mind is as incorruptible as the soul
But the body will bow to time and wither away
They then walk backwards, back to where ever they came
Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 8:52 PM UTC
do I possess an inner reality
one of hallucinatory psychosis
and if so is it
incorruptible
immutable
does it float on my breath
confiscating my words
is it a projection of my self
like watching a movie
disconnected
yet caught on the edge
of a dematerialization
which reflects images that mob my head
causing me to think of rats
that slink out of drains at noon
and whispers in the mouth
like a static interference on my mind
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 10:25 PM UTC
For, lo! All now merges into Energy,
A wild mass of liquid Rhodium,
Incorruptible,
Wherefrom, behold ye!
A novel Frame of Body,
It rises again! It rises again!
Dazzlingly gleaming
Wi' thousand sacral wounds.
Dec 30, 2020
Dec 30, 2020 at 5:10 AM UTC
I've seen you hurt
and I know your pain.
Sorrow courses through
your veins like an ******
and yet you are
my sweetest refrain.
Someday you will take
off your cheap polyester
dress of corruption
and put on a glittery
incorruptible couture.
You are so fragile,
a bent sapling
with bruised shoots,
grazing the earth
trying to make
it in a society of redwoods,
oaks, and few weeping willows.
Your courage wraps
around me like a shawl.
You are my angel
with broken wings
and a tilted halo.
Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 4:54 PM UTC
For she is the embodiment of pure nostalgia,
Her twists and turns are so inescapable.
For the memory of her clings to me,
And, as if a partner in crime,
Her goodbye accompanies.
I will find her, in the creases of sheets,
And the rooms that are hollow of her.
Somedays, all I can see is her,
Is her eyes.
Eyes that once held my world,
That hypnotized me with their electricity.
Yet today there is no serendipity found in the irises I once adored.
No, they only allude to the chilling numbness that has infested her blue bones.
Know that I write this as a obituary to the girl I once loved.
I write this in vengeance of the betrayals of fate.
I write this so you will understand that she was not always,
So terribly heartless.
She lies, as incorruptible evidence, that tears can live inside a gods eyes.
-
For I would have swum the ocean for her,
If only I could.
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 10:14 AM UTC
black or white, the ideology is often grey!
lost or abandoned, chosen or forgotten,
runner or drag-racer,
the empty bucket,
the data forms,
the Pyreness of their love;
the cry of an unbroken heart;
the little laughter of an innocent one,
perception abound, intelligence incorruptible
gentility, a mistaken identity.
the roaming panda, the separation that is youth.
it's both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so deeply.
time makes more converts than reason;
and the children suffer the wrathful inklings.
May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 6:54 PM UTC
Awash
The human spirit defined without a thread to cover their exposed heart loss the keenest revealer
Nobility crowns the vanquished they have been driven to the farthest bounds of reason
Emptiness has scoured the former land of all existence they stand on the pinnacle they have
Reached the zenith of life’s meaning by going to it unspeakable depths every speck of turgid
Normalcy so prized gives way to anticline these rarefied heights know not one profane molecule
Those lost flew to this point and beyond you followed and now you gaze after them your longing
Presents never before known opportunity into this vacuum rushes the budding of purist riches
Your life has lost their human presence but you now start the decent marked by sorrow,
Loneliness, but with these two painful strangers you have become the wealthiest of human kind
Love is the only container that could rightly hold their essence you are given this charge and on
These slopes you just turned from their departure and its glory indefinable crowned you burned
All impurities up and now the pure raging fire has subsided you see the incorruptible seeds you
are now to plant as sure footed as the Doll sheep go now intersperse them among these heights
that predate the dawning of time your fellow man waste away looking at the plains and empty
Horizon these seeds out of time and personnel loss will dazzle give the influx of immortal
Thoughts that will destroy a people’s delusional limited harvest and give them the spring board
Of freedom to achieve dreams that before were believed to be impossible this is what I saw in
Your tear filled eyes not an end but the birth of hope mother and father and the girls didn’t die in
Vain they are the truth shinning as a vision all we have to do is look
Jan 7, 2012
Jan 7, 2012 at 6:37 AM UTC
-¡Qué fresca es la sombra del plátano! De una hoja de plátano se desprenden infinitas hojas de agua que están descendiendo siempre. Me gustan las hojas verdes, acanaladas, y los racimos, y los retoños unánimes, agudos, como una bandada de peces hacia arriba. ¿Has visto el tronco? Es un panal de agua.
Me gusta el platanar con su humedad sombría y derribada, con su lecho en que se pudre el sol y con sus hojas golpeadas y tranquilas. Me gusta el platanar cuando llueve porque suena sonoramente, porque se alegra como una bestia bañándose y saltando.
Me gusta la sombra del plátano y sus pequeños nidos de aire, y el aire dulce y torpe aprendiendo a volar. Me gusta tirarme en el suelo sin raíces y sentir cómo transcurre el agua y quedarme inmóvil, oyendo.
Fuimos al mar. ¡Qué miedo tuve y qué alegría. Es un enorme animal inquieto. Golpea y sopla, se enfurece, se calma, siempre asusta. Parece que nos mirara desde dentro, desde lo hondo, con muchos ojos, con ojos iguales a los que tenemos en el corazón para mirar de lejos o en la obscuridad.
En un principio nos tiró varias veces. Después Adán se enfureció y se puso a dar de puñetazos a las olas. A mí me dio risa, me quedé en la playa mirando. Adán no podía. Al rato salió cansado, húmedo, y no dijo nada, y se durmió.
Entonces me puse a oír el mar. Ya iba obscureciendo. Suena igual que la noche, con un vasto, infinito silencio, con una honda voz. Se extiende su sonido obscuro y nos penetra por todas partes. Es un sonido de agua espesa, de agua que quiere levantarse como un animal herido.
De ahora en adelante viviremos a la orilla del mar. Aquí están a la misma altura el sol y el mar, a la misma profundidad las estrellas y los grandes peces.
Aprenderemos el mar, Él también tiene sus montañas y sus vastas llanuras, sus pájaros, sus minerales, y su vegetación unánime y difícil. Aprenderemos sus cambios, sus estaciones, su permanencia en el mundo como una enorme raíz, la raíz del árbol de agua que aprieta la tierra, el árbol inmenso que se extiende en el espacio hasta siempre.
El mar es bueno y terrible como mi padre. Yo le quiero decir padre mar. Padre mar, sostenme, engéndrame de nuevo en tu corazón. Hazme incorruptible, receptora del mundo, purificadora a pesar.
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