Thursday, July 12, 2012


Then there was a dream, a voice that came,
and a shadow in the shade, a light in the distance,
a moment of silence, a trepidation, a destination,
and a sin.
The lady came up to me and asked me questions,
took off her clothes and read a book,
some satirical poem that I was not able to comprehend,
astonished as I was at the purity of her nakedness.
I built a dream, I walked around the mist,
I lay still.
I couldn’t quite understand this disturbed harmony,
this perplexing energy, the image of a thought that gave me
no time for reflection.
The lady was there, dancing under the chandelier, reading a book,
visiting her dreams and not acknowledging mine.
I paused for a second, and the dream was gone, but not the image,
the visual energy, the foliage, the uproar of a happy dream.
I sat down, opened the book, read a poem that was once satirical.
Though written with the same words,
it was now a dirge.
What a heavy burden, I said,
and I left the room.
Madam, I thank you so very much.
Madam, I thank you so very much.
A dream, a shadow, a voice.
A dream, a shadow, a voice.
Oh, madam, I thank you so very much.
© Ernesto González, 2009