Field of Memories

It’s not enough to escape from rapture,
not enough to fly over distant seas
to become the wind under the wings
of the angel that guards the gate of departure.

Not enough stars in the sky to count
not enough light to mock the glee of your eyes
over the tail of a comet that in the heart mounts;
not enough thirst to satiate with the skies.

It’s not enough to dream of your heavens
not enough soul to fill the past’s carcass
buried in the peaceful grasslands,
that feed multitude of wicked ravens.

The moon of your eyes shines brighter
germinating the legacy of your hands
scraping furrows over the heart that tighter
beats its way and proudly stands.

I wrap the tentacles of hope over the future
enough to embrace the universe of your presence
to inundate the dryness of deception…