The pilgrimage


My tears fall on the burnt jasmine
of my dreams, allowing begins
inside the hollow of fear and terror,
the dark landscapes of doubts.
I surrender to current
and move closer to the only place I belong;

the pilgrimage.
The edge of terror forces me to kneel down
on the hard ground of now, with no cloth,
pushing my hands inside the damp soil,
to face the thorny storm and recognize
the light inside,
the darkness of my nights,
to feel my roots and know my nature,
to rise higher than my condition,
up, up, into the blue boundless sky.

Give me back my wings, I fly.
Give me back my bridge, I cross.
Give me back my ocean, I swim.
I surrender, give me back my strength,
I move deeper in love.

Your love eats my heart,

and silence unfolds the dark landscapes inside.
Your eyes touching the far corner of my nights,
in flames, the burning moth.
I put salt into the hearts of the world
to grow truth.

My voice is stone and distant from ears.
I walk alone, room to room,
town to town, with hours to spend

and a passport full of stamps.

I blow pages of poetry,  my words die before their time.
Moving deeper into darkness

at the edge of the world

for the sake of meeting love,

I become a lifted light.
Flying free over chestnut trees
above the silent monasteries, rising alone like a sun

my body pitched into your streams,
my heart, a torch burning

in your every drop of blood.