The air is full of thoughts today,
and the sunlight fights its way to get to me,
but when I feel its warmth,
I turn and seek the rain.
Forever is an empty kitchen in a speeding train,
and everywhere I look, life is still the same.
It’s still a shame
to think of life as shadows on the street,
because the hard concrete is not a place for flowers,
nor is the asphalt black upon where buses run,
passing by, rushing lifetimes into hours.
And we silently stand patiently and wait,
for buses running late.
Some of us are prone to strolling
through forests to reach hopes and dreams,
leaving thoughts in the air we breathe,
and without noticing,
I do believe,
life and all is nothing more than what it seems.
C. 2020, Francisco Bravo Cabrera,