The Flow

(My first poem in English. Not easy for a French native, so please be indulgent…)

The flow… rolls!
Part spring, part river, part ocean, part you
Half bitter, half lightened,
Ten percent glowing, ten percent drowning, ten percent invisible,
But seventy percent… hoping…

Is it the constant flow of questions,
Irradiating from your mind filled with fears, running from answers?
The fact is… that you are here, breathing, balancing,
Shivering of loneliness,
With your heart half cold of despair,
Half full of Love to give, and desire to connect, and vibrate, as one…

You have stopped counting.
Ceased to run.
Don’t fight anymore against Spacetime,
No more anxious about walls, that you can’t help decorating
With openings adorned with flowers, so this way, they become…

Curtains. Just curtains. Nothing else, than curtains.
Fully opened to infinite,
Stealing the colors of the skies,
Constantly agitated by winds,
Endlessly creating new wonderful destinations,
Full of surprises, actions, sounds, airs, waters, and Life…

You don’t tolerate closed paths, closed gates, closed doors, exclusive clubs,
Black holes of addictions,
Chains of dependency,
Infernos of domination,
Anymore.

You break the barriers, for the next generation to come,
So they will born in a world of possibilities,
Instead of growing among a Humanity in ruins.

° ° ° ° ° ° °

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