ON THE RIVER

What if it was all in vain? Do you still want to swim, go to the sea, see that marvel of transparent nature. I saw a dolphin come back and the turtles find silent places, the blue becomes deep and the clouds protect us from the heat. It was a wonderful dream but you know, then you wake us up and you find yourself on a beach full of bottles, masks and gloves, the turtles have just suffocated, the dolphins float after having worn out your mask and the clouds do not exist, the heat has become too much for me. I stay closed at home maybe we should get used to it. A dream is not valid but reality kills us.

The more the pain sinks into you, the less you see the wound. Like certain rivers that flow underground, pain, when it is true, is water that slips away without making a sound, a force that erodes and that over there changes the shape of things but, from the outside, they are only stones and silence, the sound of footsteps on the gravel, dry smell.

At certain times of the year and with the right conditions, they swell.
They grow huge, seethe with rage,
charge up and get impetuous, overwhelming anything in their path.
So frighteningly powerful, careless and deafening.
Alive;
In other periods, however, they become small, shy, thin and calm.
We see them creating new paths among the pebbles,
frightened and lost, inside a bed that until some time before was so full of their own furious being.
Without NEVER interrupting their continuous flow.
Don’t stop, that’s their imperative;
Towards their goal. Towards the sea.
That’s why I like them.
Two faces of the same revolution.
I watch them, listen to them, admire them, in awe of their determination.